


The Dragonborn Crisis

by Zoa



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood and Violence, Dragons, Drinking, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Skyrim, Kylo's PoV, Mild Language, Rey's POV, Skyrim Civil War, Skyrim/Star Wars AU, Star Wars characters in the Skyrim world, Verbal Abuse, again not a lot but a warning is better than none, but just in case, not a lot and mostly in the beginning, switching back and forth, the au i've had in my head forever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-07-18 17:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 81,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16123307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoa/pseuds/Zoa
Summary: The land of Skyrim is undergoing a devastating civil war. The Resistance is fighting the Empire and Emperor’s Snoke’s iron grip on their resources and rights. In the midst of this, the dragons return and wreak havoc upon Skyrim. There is only one Dragonborn, Kylo Ren, and he fights for the Empire, using his powers against the Resistance.Rey is an orphan who is thrust into the midst of this conflict and discovers that she, too, is Dragonborn. For the first time in the history of Tamriel two Dragonborn exist in the same era. She is wanted by both the Resistance and the Empire, her power valued beyond gold.Destiny intervenes and the two opposing Dragonborn must work together to defeat the great dragon Alduin, the World Eater, before both sides lose and Skyrim is destroyed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited about this one and I hope it's a fun ride for everybody! 
> 
> Updates every Friday.

_I wonder what it would be like to soar in those clouds,_ Rey wondered idly as she gazed into the afternoon sky. It was a lovely, mild day in the middle of harvest time. The air was just beginning to crisp as autumn took hold of the Rift and fluffy white clouds had appeared to foreshadow the inevitable freezing rain that would with colder weather. They looked so friendly then that Rey could almost forget how ugly winters were in the south of Skyrim.

 

“Girl! Stop lazing around and clean up!” Unkar Plutt’s harsh voice hissed at Rey from above her. He glared at her as she rested on a small patch of grass outside of the Niima Orphanage. She sighed heavily and stood, muttering a curse under her breath for the Argonian at her shoulder.

 

“Hurry it up, ya piece of horse-shit!” Unkar’s guttural abuse continued, his forked tongue flicking out in irritation.

 

“Yes sir,” Rey muttered venomously and picked up her broom to finish sweeping the perpetually dirty front steps of the orphanage. She was unable to shake her sulk at her interrupted moment of peace but Unkar grunted, appeased, and went back inside the building where he promptly began shouting at the children. Rey gripped the handle of the broom so tightly her knuckles whitened. She hated that giant lizard more with each passing year.

 

There was no legal reason why she stayed. She was an adult, he had no other hold on her, but she had no money of her own, no other place to go, and an affection for the other orphans that kept her there. Above all, there was the childish hope that the parents who had abandoned her at the orphanage twenty years before would come back. Each passing year made that hope fade slightly, but she still stayed, never one to give up easily.

 

At least she got reprieves from Unkar’s abuse every now and then. Her foremost job at the orphanage was stealing gold and scavenging supplies for the Argonian. She was often in Riften’s square, or in the Rift countryside, collecting on the underhanded deals Unkar made with the townsfolk or, most often, stealing for him. Her success in the latter situation depended on her sleight of hand, aided by the little Magicka she knew.

 

That Morndas which Rey had slipped into daydreaming was one of the few days she didn’t have to sneak around on Unkar’s business. Sweeping was a welcome respite from her usual subterfuge. She looked over at the activity in the circle that made up Riften’s town center as she worked. The merchants across the bridge were always busy even though the town received few outside visitors. Being at the furthest southeastern edge of Skyrim’s territory, with little to its name except for the Jakku Meadery caused the little town to suffer from a chronic condition Rey called “drunk farmer syndrome”, because for the most part it was only the farmers and fishermen in the Rift that ever crossed through the town’s gates. Every now and then an adventurer would come through, regale the pub with a story or two, and be gone the next day.

 

Sometimes she wondered which Divine had hated her so much to put her there. Or, more likely, which daedric prince had decided to use her for their own amusement. The town was a hive of scum and villainy, allowed to be overrun by the Thieves Guild, which served the Empire. Ah, the Imperials. One satisfaction in her work for Unkar was that she sometimes pickpocketed Imperial soldiers who had crossed Unkar in someway, or owed him for some reason. She watched as a couple such soldiers harassed the local blacksmith for the taxes he owed, their raised voices carrying easily across Riften’s canal to the orphanage. Eventually the blacksmith gave up and allowed the Imperials to take what they wanted. What they had no right to.

 

_Damn Imperials!_

 

“Hey, girl!”

 

Rey scowled at Unkar as he materialized in the doorway of the orphanage again. “I’m sweeping, Unkar,” she grumbled, anticipating another reprimand.

 

“Never mind that. I need another barrel of mead. One of the urchins is pilfering, I swear to the Eight.” He hissed in frustration. “Go the meadery and get another one. You can finish up when you get back.” He turned on his scaled heel and disappeared inside.

 

Deciding it was better to go and enjoy the brief respite from Unkar’s incessant commands, Rey unceremoniously dropped the broom and marched over the little wooden bridge to the town market. Cutting through the market was the faster route and she enjoyed the chaos and bustle of a busy day.

 

The center of Riften was suspended over a canal in two levels. The basement level consisted of living quarters and the local alchemy business, as well as the entrance to the Ratway, where the thieves and poor of the town tended to congregate. Rey didn’t go down to the lower level often, unless directed by Unkar. The top level was made up of the market, a couple of inns, and the dwellings of the rich, as well as the Jarl’s hall, Mistveil Keep.

 

Rey noticed that the market that day was made up of five merchants, their wares on carts surrounding the town’s well. One sold jewelry, another weapons and armor, the others usually sold food and wines from around Skyrim. That day, however, there was an extra cart with a special ware that caught her eye. Books.

 

Rey stopped at the cart, eyeing the tomes hungrily. Just from a brief perusal she could see they were mostly of lore and myths, nothing about magic or spells, but still she coveted them. The girl had learned to read and practice Magicka through a kindly Khajiit fortune teller named Maz, who took the time to tutor Rey when her Khajiit caravan came through Riften. Maz had provided Rey with various books over the years to practice her skills, but Rey had to keep the books and tutoring secret from Unkar - who would have only burned them or held them ransom so that she would do some terrible job for him. She hadn’t seen Maz in months and sorely missed the companionship the Elsweyrian provided.

 

Rey trailed her fingers over the books’ spines, wondering briefly if she could successfully pluck one up and hide it in her dress. The merchant was already eyeing her warily, though, so she flashed him a smile and made to scurry off to the meadery. Maybe later, she thought.

 

As she turned Rey collided with a solid mass that knocked her down, directly on her ass. She huffed in shock and looked up quickly to see what she had run into. Staring down at her was a startled young man with dark brown eyes, which were wide with dismay. He was clean-shaven and had short hair, unusual for the Rift, but was dressed as a Nord in a simple woolen tunic and hide pants. His boots were muddied and well worn, telling her he must have come a long way. They were also Imperial issue, and though it wasn’t unusual for civilians to collect Imperial armor, it was still curious. Skyrim’s warriors often wore a hodgepodge suit of armor from many different sources, but Imperial armor suggested this man was a former legionnaire, or at least knew one.  

 

“Are you alright?” he exclaimed and offered his hand to help her up. Rey glanced at his hand and back to his eyes suspiciously but took the proffered assistance anyway. She rubbed the offended area of her body and winced.

 

“I’ll be alright.” She told the stranger and again eyed him up and down. He was sweating profusely, even though it was cool day at the end of Hearthfire (the first fall month). “No permanent damage.” She smiled reassuringly at him, assuming that maybe he was afraid he had injured her. There was something about the man she liked, his eyes encouraging trust with their candor.

 

He looked at her guiltily. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t see you.”

 

“It’s alright, really,” Rey told him. “Believe me, I’ve had worse. I’m Rey.” She stuck out her hand for him to take, hoping that if she changed the subject by introducing herself he would calm down.

 

“Finn,” the stranger replied with a relieved smile. Rey took an immediate liking to that smile. It was friendly without being presumptuous.

 

“I haven’t seen you here before, Finn. What brings you to Riften?” She asked.

 

He hesitated to answer and the thunder of many footsteps from the main gates of the city distracted Rey from pressing him. She scowled when she saw the Imperial banner appear just inside the gates and move closer to their position. It sounded like an entire legion of Imperials had entered Riften.

 

“Talos help me.” Finn whispered beside her and she turned toward him with an even deeper frown. The worship of Talos was considered heretical by the Empire and therefore illegal. It was a major factor in the civil war that had consumed Skyrim for years now. A group had sprouted fifteen or so years earlier called the Resistance, which took it upon itself to battle the Empire’s totalitarian grip and protect the rights of all of Skyrim’s citizens.

 

Rey considered this as she stared at her new acquaintance, who was shaking and looking around frantically as the Imperials neared. She looked between the oncoming Imperials and Finn. They were after him. Before she realized what she was doing, acting only on instinct, Rey grabbed Finn’s hand and dragged him through the marketplace crowd, which had gathered to watch the surprise procession of Imperial soldiers. She felt some resistance at first from him, but Rey obstinately tugged him in the opposite direction and he finally relented. She guided him toward the stairs that led to the lower level of the city.

 

“What are you doing?” He questioned a little too loudly. “Where-?”

 

“Shhh!” Rey pulled him down the stairs. “I’m taking you somewhere safe.” She could feel his eyes on the back of her head as she dragged him into the underbelly of the city, the infamous Ratway.

 

Rey released his hand as they entered the damp labyrinthine caverns of the Ratway to take a torch from the wall. She didn’t know every nook and cranny but did know how to get to the Red Flagon, the pub that served the seediest citizens of Riften. Unkar sometimes made deals with the Thieves Guild and the Red Flagon was where Rey was sent as his representative. The proprietors of the pub wouldn’t question the appearance of a fugitive.

 

“Come on,” she beckoned for Finn to follow her. She led the way further into the tunnels, toward the dingy cells the mentally disturbed of Riften often spent their nights. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, the sudden adventure pulsing like Skooma through her veins.

 

“Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.” Finn’s voice expressed awe but also anxiety.

 

Rey looked back at him and quickly away. “I have no love for the Imperials.” She responded simply. “And,” she paused. “And I just had a feeling you needed help.”

 

There was silence for a moment. “Thank you,” he said quietly. She nodded and for a little while all was quiet except for the echo of their footsteps. Rey’s curiosity was burning her up as she thought about Finn’s predicament. Why was Finn wanted by the Empire? Why was he in Riften?

 

She decided to be direct with him and broke the quiet to ask: “Why are they after you?”

 

Finn sighed heavily from behind her and she felt his hand on her arm pull her to a stop. She faced him and the torchlight showed his expression, sad and tired.

 

“I guess I owe you an explanation, don’t I?” He pressed his lips together and studied her face for a brief moment before continuing. “I’m with the Resistance.”

 

Rey’s eyes widened in shock and she was struck speechless. Riften was under Imperial control. No Resistance people had ever been seen or heard of there before, the Empire’s tight grip on the city preventing any presence beyond what they allowed. Rey had found herself sympathizing with the Resistance since she had reached adulthood, the Empire’s tactics becoming more brutal over time as it demanded more and more from Skyrim and its people but offering little in return. It reminded her of life with Unkar. That was no way for a government to treat its citizens.

 

“You’re with the Resistance.” She repeated in amazement.

 

He nodded, obviously relieved by her reaction. “Yes. I’ve been on a mission. It, uh, failed. And now here I am.” He rubbed his hands over his face in frustration.

 

Rey frowned. Yes. He was in Riften, one of the worst places he could be. “Why are you in Riften? Our Jarl is loyal to the Empire.”

 

“I was on my way to Windhelm,” he replied. “But somebody must have recognized me as I passed through Shor’s Stone, because I’ve been chased ever since. I had to come south because they’ve blockaded the northern roads. I don’t know any other way from here.” He looked defeated and Rey felt for him. She decided then to help him get out of the Rift.

 

“I’ll help you.” She told him. “I’ll help you get to safety.”

 

He looked at her like she had grown two heads. “No,” he shook his head. “No, you’ve done enough. I’ll find my own way.”

 

“I know how to get you out of Riften discretely,” Rey explained patiently. “Unless you can convince the city guards you’re not a fugitive, you need me.” It was brazen, possibly stupid, but Rey didn’t care. This was possibly the only chance she had to do something good. She would be back in a few days and could steal something along the way to make up her disappearance to Unkar.

 

Finn swallowed thickly. Rey knew he was desperate and had no alternative. She waited patiently for his answer.  

 

“Alright.” He agreed, and Rey grinned.

 

* * *

 

After Rey left Finn at the Red Flagon she had to hurry back to Unkar before he got suspicious of her long absence and no mead barrel. She blamed her delay on the sudden Imperial presence, which seemed to satisfy him. For once there was no long rebuke for her tardiness.

 

Once night fell and Unkar slept in his nightly mead coma, she had changed into her traveling clothes - a simple white cotton tunic, brown bodice, and hide trousers - and tiptoed to the orphanage’s larder, the darkness shrouding her as she proceeded to stuff some food into a sack. She couldn’t take much but at least they would have enough to get them to Whiterun, the only city in Skyrim neutral to the conflict and one Finn said he knew well. From there he had said he could make his own way to Windhelm. It wasn’t far, a day’s journey or so, and Rey could be back at the orphanage before even two days had gone by.

 

The plan Rey had concocted wasn’t complicated: take the orphanage’s horse and cart, hide Finn under the tarp, and smuggle him out through the front gates. When he had asked her how she would get past the Imperial guards that would inevitably be waiting at the gate, Rey had given him a conspiratorial smile.

 

“I can be charming.” She had told him cryptically.

 

Rey looked around the larder one more time before quietly moving out into the foyer and toward the front door. She stopped when she passed by the cabinet which stood just outside the larder. On the wall above it hung the sword which Unkar let her take when she went outside the city. It was rusty and well used, probably useless in a real fight, but it gave Rey some security in her excursions. She set her lips into a grim line and pulled a stool quietly from the larder, stood upon it, and took the sword from its perch. She also reached into the cabinet and took its scabbard. She put the stool back and, sword gripped tightly in her right hand, started for the exit again.

 

A soft sound behind her made her freeze and slowly turn, her heart beating fast, sure Unkar had discovered her. Relief went through her at the sight of one of the orphans, Gianna. She was a recent arrival to the orphanage and Rey had grown quite attached to her. The little girl was staring at Rey curiously, her nightgown wrinkled from sleep.

 

“What are you doing, Rey?” The little girl asked softly. She peered at Rey’s sack and the sword, which Rey hid behind her guiltily, and her dark eyes grew wide. “Are you leaving?”

 

Rey immediately knelt, gently putting the sword and sack down before she pulled the girl into her arms. “I need to help someone.” She whispered before sitting back and gently tucking Gianna’s hair behind her ears. It was always in the little girl’s face and more than once had suffered cruel tugs by the boys in the orphanage. “But I’ll be back soon. I promise. I need you to watch the others for me while I’m gone, alright?” Rey tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall at the corner of her eyes, overwhelmed by the realization she was leaving the children to fend for themselves, even if it was only for a few days.

 

Gianna peered at her, as if deep in thought. “Alright. I can do that. I remember what you taught me.” The girl waved her hands and smiled. Rey smiled back and took those hands into her own to squeeze them affectionately.

 

“But never when Unkar can see you.” Rey emphasized. Gianna nodded and Rey leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Go back to sleep now, Gianna. And don’t tell you-know-who you saw me.”

 

The little girl’s bottom lip began to tremble and she threw her arms around Rey’s neck tightly. Rey almost broke and changed her mind about helping Finn, but Gianna pulled away and looked at Rey bravely.

 

“I’ll be like you, Rey. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everyone.”

 

Rey smiled again. “Good girl. But take care of yourself, too.” She stood and picked up the sack and sword. “Now to get to bed.” She added softly. Gianna scurried back to the giant hall which held the beds, but gave Rey one last smile before she disappeared into the dark room. Rey’s stomach was in knots, suddenly very nervous about what she was about to do. She reminded herself this was no different than spending a day or two scouring the countryside for Unkar. _Why does it feel different?_ She shook her head violently to rid herself of the thought and walked out.

 

* * *

  

An hour later Rey drove the dappled grey mare - affectionately called Falcon by the orphans - and cart up to Riften’s gate. Finn was snugly tucked amidst some baskets in the cart, a lump that could easily be taken for a sack of potatoes. It was well after two in the morning and the rest of the little town was fast asleep. There were four guards at the gate - two from Riften, who Rey knew, but the other two were Imperials. The gate lanterns were lit and flickered against the stone wall, angrily reminding Rey that she needed to use all of her skills to get past the first obstacle in Finn’s escape.

 

“Halt!” Bendt, one of the Riften guards called out. Rey pulled gently at the reins to stop Falcon and smiled as the guard and his Imperial counterpart walked up to the cart.

 

“Evening,” she said pleasantly. “How are you, Bendt?”

 

The guard frowned up at Rey. “Ms. Rey? By the Divines! Why are you out this late?” The Imperial guard was eyeing Rey and the cart suspiciously. Rey watched him from the corner of her eye as she responded.

 

“Unkar has me picking up a new orphan at sunrise in Shor’s Stone.” She rolled her eyes and hoped her casual irreverence would convince the two guards all was well.

 

Bendt snorted. “Typical of Unkar to send you off like that. But…” he looked nervously at the Imperial guard, who was winding his way to the back of the cart. “I don’t know if I can let you go. We’re not letting people in or out of the city.”

 

Rey chewed her bottom lip and put on the most forlorn expression she could muster. “Please, Bendt? You know what might happen if I don’t get there and back when Unkar expects.” She waved a hand in exasperation. A small ripple in the air surrounded the two guards, what could conceivably be a trick of the moonlight, bright around them.

 

The Riften guard blinked and looked at his counterpart, who had been in the process of lifting the tarp in the cart. The Imperial guard slowly dropped the tarp and nodded at Bendt.  
  
“You can go, Rey.” Bendt said, dazed. “Have a safe journey.”

 

Rey smiled and thanked him, then clicked her tongue for Falcon to go. The other two guards opened the gates even as they looked on in confusion at the blatant disregard of the curfew. Rey gave a friendly wave back to the soldiers but turned quickly back to the dark road. From here it would be fairly simple to avoid other hurdles. By going east and then north they would hopefully circumvent the Imperial blockades that had surely gone up after Finn’s sighting in the Rift.

 

Rey heaved a sigh and urged Falcon on. The sooner they got to Whiterun, the sooner she could return to Riften.


	2. Chapter 2

“You ever going to tell me how you managed to get past those guards?” Finn asked. He sat beside Rey in the cart as she guided Falcon over the rocky road. Once clear of Riften Rey had gone west, figuring it was better to go through the mountains and Helgen than risk the Imperial blockades north. Non-stop, Whiterun was usually a twelve hour journey from Riften, but there had been some Imperial checks when they crossed the border into Falkreath Hold that Rey hadn’t expected, and the travelers were forced into a two day journey.

 

She laughed. “How many times are you going to ask me that?” The man had been relentless in his questions ever since it was safe for him to come out of hiding.  

 

“As many times as I need to until you tell me the truth,” he shot back with a grin. “That guard was staring straight at me. I thought we were done for!”

 

Rey bit her lip and stared ahead at the road. She supposed there was no harm in telling him how she had managed their ruse. “I know a little Magicka.” She admitted with a shrug.

 

Finn’s eyes widened and he laughed. “Of course! I should have guessed!” He shook his head. “You’re really good then. How’d you learn?”

 

“Books and a little instruction from a Khajiit,” she replied with a small smile. She had kept her Magicka knowledge to herself for so long (Gianna and Maz were the only two people who knew of her skills), that she had forgotten it was commonplace in the rest of the world.

 

“Books.” Finn grinned. “And a Khajiit.” He paused and started again slowly. “You know, if you came with me to Windhelm, you’d be able to get a lot more instruction. We’ve got a couple of powerful wizards in the Resistance.”

 

Rey looked at him in surprise. “Um, thanks for the offer, but I can’t go to Windhelm. I have to get back to Riften as soon as you’re safe.”

 

“Why?” Finn sounded genuinely confused. “I thought you said you live at an orphanage?”

 

“I do.”

 

“Then why do you _have_ to go back? Do you have a boyfriend? Cute boyfriend?” His tone and smile were conspiratorial.

 

Rey felt her cheeks heat and knew she was red as a beet. It was miles from the truth but she didn’t feel like diving into her real reasons. “No, not that it’s any of your business. Do you mind getting me an apple?” She asked, desperately needing a change in conversation.

 

Finn looked a little hurt but nodded and reached back into the cart for the sack which held their supplies. The sack was depressingly light after two days on the road, Rey having only packed enough for a day’s journey. “Here.”

 

Rey took the apple gratefully and immediately bit into the bruised skin.

 

“Are we almost there?” Finn asked as he looked about. They had been in the forested, mountainous region that separated the Rift and Falkreath from Whiterun Hold for a few hours, and were both ready for a change of scenery. The White River trickled beside them as the cart rolled along, its burble a welcome friend on the lonely road.

 

Rey nodded. “I think so.” As her voice faded the cart broke through the trees and before them lay an expanse of rocky grassland. To the north and west rose the tiered city of Whiterun, like an oasis in the desert.

 

“Look!” Rey pointed and Falcon nickered in protest at the sudden movement.

 

Finn raised a hand to shade his eyes from the sun and grinned. “We made it!” He exclaimed. “Rey, we did it!”

 

* * *

 

Whiterun was a well known city in the land of Skyrim, especially since the advent of the war because it had remained conspicuously neutral to the conflict. Whiterun Hold was the breadbasket of Skyrim, its fields and plains home to the farms and horse breeders that supplied the rest of the region. This in addition to Amilyn Holdo careful opinions of the war allowed the hold to exist neutrally with no interference from the Empire. All were welcome in the city as long as they understood that Whiterun and its Hold was under its own jurisdiction.

 

Both the Resistance and the Empire made repeated attempt to sway Holdo to their side, but she remained staunchly objective. Whiterun was wealthy and had its own impressive military. Whoever gained Amilyn Holdo’s support would turn the war.

 

For Rey and Finn the town was a temporary haven. Finn would be able to get supplies and rest and set off for the Resistance without worry, and Rey could find something to mollify Unkar.

 

As they alighted at the stable just outside of the city, Finn asked Rey if she had ever been beyond Whiterun and she replied she had never been on this of the mountain.

 

“Helgen is the last place I  know.” She added and gave Falcon a pat before she disengaged him from the cart.

 

“You could come with me to Windhelm.” Finn suggested lightly as he reached into the cart to grab the rucksack. He also took out Rey’s scabbard and handed it to her. “You’d have a whole new perspective on the world.” Finn took a mace from the cart and attached it to his side, something he had managed to barter from one of the patrons in the Red Flagon.

 

“I’m not going to Windhelm, Finn.” Rey asserted stiffly as she tied the scabbard around her waist. Yes, she was sympathetic to the Resistance cause, but she had to stay in Riften. They could come back any day, her parents, and she needed to be there. A soft voice in the back of her mind said that was childish, a weak excuse to stagnate and wallow, but she pushed it away stubbornly and continued to unhook Falcon from his harness. She saw Finn open his mouth to argue with her but he was interrupted before he utter a word. Rey was secretly relieved by the intrusion, Finn’s case for Windhelm grating on her.

 

“Hey, either of you two got the gold to stable this horse?” A cranky voice came at them from the direction of the little, thatch-roofed house that stood next to the stable. An elderly lady had emerged, obviously displeased by the sudden appearance of two young people who were making themselves very much at home in her stable yard. Rey cursed quietly when she remembered she hadn’t brought any gold. Unkar kept all his gold locked in the safe in his room and frankly she hadn’t even thought about taking any before she left.

 

Just as she was about to mumble an apology and reconnect Falcon to the cart, Finn pulled out a coin pouch from one of his trouser pockets. He tossed a few coins at the stable owner and turned back to Rey with a grin. She gaped at him. The older woman caught the coins and nodded her head gruffly to the stable.

 

“You can leave yer horse in there for the night. Cart can stay where it’s at.” With that she went back inside her little house.

 

“Where did that come from?” Rey whispered as they led Falcon to the stable.

 

“It’s, um, from my employers,” he replied pointedly. “I only have so much. I thought we’d need more here. I didn’t mean to hide it from you.” He added guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

 

Rey had learned a little about Finn in their time together, but enough to know he was a good man. He was sincere and honest, almost to his detriment, a personality at odds with his position as a spy. Rey’s instincts about him had been right and if they had more time she thought he might become a good friend. His oversight in not telling her about the gold didn’t bother her in the slightest. On the contrary, it was amusing more than anything else.

 

“It’s alright, Finn,” she said. “I was just surprised since you whipped it out like a bloody Jarl.” She gave him a teasing smile and went to get hay for Falcon to munch on. When she returned, she and Finn left a tired but happy horse to her food and started for the city gates, eager to find a meal and bed for themselves.

 

The guards on the inside of the gate greeted them cordially with a nod of their head. The two travelers nodded back as they passed.

 

“It’s been awhile, but I think I remember how to get to the inn.” Finn told her and led the way.

 

Rey nodded and took the opportunity to look about her as they walked through the city. Finn explained that they were in the Plains District, made up of the town’s businesses and market (with a few homes scattered about), the next level up was the Wind District, the residential area of the city as well as home to the Companions guild, that famous company that served to help Skyrim’s people for glory in Sovngarde. The final level was the Cloud District, the location of Dragonsreach, the Jarl’s hall.  

 

“I’ve heard that Holdo has a dragon’s head above her seat.” He added. Rey’s eyes widened. 

 

“A dragon? I've never even seen a live one. They were all been destroyed, weren't they?” Even at the height of the dragon attacks years ago, somehow Riften escaped being a target.  _It's not even worth being destroyed by a dragon_ , Rey thought wryly.

 

Finn shrugged. “Supposedly. According to Emperor Snoke, Kylo Ren took out the last one years ago.” He sneered a little as he spoke. Rey supposed that came with the territory of being a Resistance fighter. “But I don’t believe that. I say they’re just biding their time.”

 

They had reached their goal by then, the Twin Suns Inn, its wooden sign bearing two suns setting on the horizon. The establishment lay just off the busy marketplace and thus was incredibly busy, people jostling to and fro as Finn and Rey made their way inside and to the bar. A firepit lay in the center of the hall, benches surrounding it. A bard sang a lied just beside it, strumming a mandolin. Rey smiled at the scene. Riften of course had their own inn, with similar characteristics, but she had never had the opportunity to enjoy the atmosphere. Here it was warm and inviting; the patrons laughed and sang along with the bard as they downed their mead. Finn bought them ales and the two sat at the bar in companionable silence while the bard finished his song. Rey slowly sipped from hers and almost laughed when she recognized the smooth, frothy, amber-colored beverage. She could never fail to recognize the pairing of honey and barley. Jakku Meadery. A little bit of the Rift.

 

“What’s next?” Rey asked, turning to Finn. She watched, amused, as he downed his ale in three gulps. He wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve and grinned at her. Rey let out a laugh. It was a whole new experience for her to be in a social situation with a person who didn’t have some ulterior motive (or when she didn’t have an ulterior motive, for that matter). She wasn’t as open with her feelings as Finn was but felt no pressure from him to be so. Regret that she would be returning to Riften filled her mind, the first real moment of doubt she’d had since helping Finn escape. She began to toy with the idea of not going back, that quiet voice in the back of her mind growing a little louder.

 

“I guess we should-” Finn stopped as a great roar shook the inn. “What in the Nine?” He murmured. The entire business went quiet, no one having a clue what had made the noise. It happened again and in one swift movement everyone bolted for the exit, Rey and Finn quickly  following.

 

As Rey pushed her way to the well in the marketplace a monstrous shadow swept over the city, a rush of wind accompanying it. She felt a tingle in her spine as she looked up and saw a massive winged beast hovering above Whiterun. It roared again and she instinctively covered her ears as the sound drowned out everything around her. It was too much. Her body thrummed with the reverberation as the beast beat its wings and soared over the town. It flew to the west, toward a nearby watchtower, spewing sulphurous fire from its mouth. Rey felt a hand grab hers and she looked down to find it was Finn’s. He looked terrified.   

 

“A dragon! Alert Dragonsreach! A dragon has appeared in Whiterun!” Someone shouted nearby. There was chaos in the market as everyone rushed to their respective homes or businesses to grab their weapons or hide. Most of the men charged for the barracks, and the Companions streamed out of their hall and toward the city gates. Those gates opened immediately to Whiterun’s defenders.

 

Rey started to move automatically, her body pulling her in the same direction without her brain’s permission, but a tug on her hand jerked her to a stop.

 

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Finn stared at her in shock. His grip on her hand tightened slightly. “You can’t go out there!”

 

“I’m going.” Rey said, half convinced that she had indeed gone insane. Something was telling her to go and she could do nothing but listen. “I’m going to help.” She tugged her hand free of Finn’s grasp and ran through the city gates, ignoring his shouts of protest. She had no idea what her plan was or why she felt the impulse to go fight a giant, fire-breathing monster that looked like something out of her nightmares. Her rusty sword would likely not even scratch it, her slight knowledge of magic would probably only delay her inevitable death, but all the same she was running straight toward it.

 

Dread drowned out all other thought as she got closer to the watchtower. The guards already stationed there were in the midst of fending off the creature, and definitely losing. It slithered toward them on the ground, its tail whipping wildly as it roared and spat flame from its mouth. The guards screamed and cowered behind their shields and the stone ruins which surrounded the tower, but the dragon was relentless as it continued its onslaught. It stepped on those in its direct path and roasted the others.  

 

Rey slid to a stop and just stared at the scene before her. What was she thinking? Finn was right, this was so foolish. She needed to go back before she got killed.

 

“Lass, if ye gonna fight, ye need one of these.” A large, burly man with a long red beard shoved a shield at her. She took it automatically with a huff, the heavy wooden shield making her stagger slightly. He rumbled off after that along with the others, although the number of fighters seemed to have lessened dramatically since leaving the city. She couldn’t blame them. Holding the shield somehow gave her new purpose, because despite her better judgement, she steeled her nerves and slid her trembling left arm through the straps on the back of the shield and with her right drew her sword. She took a step toward the fray, praying to all the Divines (even Talos) that she would live through this.

 

“Rey!”

 

She whirled around and was relieved to see Finn charging his way to her. He stopped, gasping, beside her and drew his mace.

 

“I guess we’re really gonna fight a dragon, huh?” He rasped, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

 

She nodded and swallowed, her throat dry. “Yeah. I guess so.” She looked back at the monster, which had whirled on the new charge from Whiterun and flapped its wings angrily, buffeting the newcomers violently with the air.

 

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Finn groaned.

 

* * *

 

Rey would have to tell Finn he was a prophet if they survived. The battle with the dragon, was, as they had feared, not going well. Even as thirty warriors fought the beast, the dragon still managed to have the advantage. Rey had barely missed being thrown into Oblivion by the thing’s tail, and Finn nearly had his eyebrows singed off. The thing had been hit a few times and was bleeding, but no one could find a weak enough spot that would mortally wound it.

 

Hiding just inside the watchtower, Rey gasped for breath. She had lost her shield in her fumble with the dragon’s tail and her arm still stung from almost being ripped off. Finn crouched beside her, every now and then peering out of the archer’s window.

 

Rey knew that if they didn’t do something to kill the thing soon that they and the entire town of Whiterun would be decimated. She looked around frantically and spotted a bow and quiver of arrows beside the staircase of the watchtower. She groped at Finn’s shoulder to get his attention and pointed at the bow.

 

“Is the dragon still on the ground?” she asked. Finn looked between her and the bow in confusion.

 

“It just landed again. What are you doing now?” He watched as she dropped her sword and grabbed the bow and quiver.

 

“I have an idea.” She replied grimly and bounded up the stairs without explaining. Why hadn’t she thought of it before? The dragon must have a weak spot. Everything did. They had spent the last hour attacking it from below, where its skin was thickest. Maybe, just maybe, the hide was thinner on its back, the hardest to reach place on a dragon. It was their only chance.

 

Rey emerged at the summit of the watchtower and stumbled over to the parapet. She watched in horror and fought back bile as the dragon ripped apart one of the fighters below. Fire and the thunder of the dragon’s roar combined with the screams of the dying to fill her ears. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to listen. She took a few deep breaths and armed the bow before standing and leaning over the parapet. She had only ever handled a bow once before but figured that with a little magic she could make the arrow fly true. The dragon lifted its head and spewed flames once more toward its human targets.

 

Rey narrowed her eyes and drew the bow, aiming just behind the crown of horns on its scaled head. Her breathing steadied, her heart beat calmed, and she released the arrow. She had never felt this serenity before, the absolute knowledge that she was right. She had no time to wonder how or why but reveled in it all the same.

 

The arrow whistled as it flew past her cheek and found its mark with a thud. The animal below her shrieked and clawed with its talons at the injury, but could not reach it. The shouting below stopped as the dragon stumbled and fell with a groan, the earth shaking beneath as it shuddered and ceased moving.

 

“Yes! Yes!” Rey shouted in delight, a wide grin on her face. She careened down the stairs and out onto the battlefield. Finn rejoined her and they both stepped carefully toward the dead monster.

 

“How did you do that?” Finn whispered in awe.

 

“I don’t know,” she whispered back. They had reached the head of the monster and were surrounded slowly by the others. The large red bearded man clapped a hand on Rey’s back - causing her to stumble forward slightly - with a mighty laugh.

 

“Aye! Let’s hear it for the lass, eh? Our dragonslayer!” He roared. The others cheered and Rey felt her cheeks heat, at once proud and embarrassed.

 

“Wait. What’s happening?” Another man pointed toward the dragon and everybody instantly went into a battle stance, assuming the creature was not dead yet.

 

Instead what they saw astounded them. There was a golden glow that surrounded the carcass, whirling through the air and straight toward the group of people. They bounded back, afraid, Finn tried to pull Rey away but she was rooted to the spot.

 

“Rey!”

 

She couldn’t hear him. She could only hear the roar, like a thousand waterfalls, as the golden tendrils whipped toward her. It engulfed her, disturbing the air and ruffling her hair, loosened from its usual three buns in the battle. She felt it the moment it entered her body, a strange light feeling and then a warmth deep inside her soul. With the golden light gone she noticed that the carcass of the dragon had turned into a pile of bones, its flesh disintegrated.

 

“Rey?” She heard Finn’s cautious tone and turned toward him. He approached her slowly, a hand held out to her. “Are you alright?”

 

“I-I think so,” she murmured and examined herself, thinking perhaps there was physical change to match what she felt inside. “What _was_ that?”

 

“Dragonborn.”

 

Rey whipped toward where the whispered moniker came from, one of the Whiterun guards.

 

“What?”

 

“Dragonborn.” He repeated with awe. “Like that Kylo Ren. You can truly kill a dragon.”

 

“Dragonborn?” Rey repeated, confused. “‘Take their souls’?” She'd heard the stories, knew who Kylo Ren was, but could not fathom any of his legend assigned to her. 

 

“Impossible! There’s only one in an era!” Another man piped up.

 

“Obviously that’s wrong.” The Whiterun guard argued vehemently. “She is. She’s Dragonborn!”

 

Suddenly everyone erupted into an argument over whether or not Rey was Dragonborn, the noise somehow louder than the dragon they had just fought.

 

Rey looked at Finn with wide eyes and he met them with his own, completely dumbfounded.

 

That one word repeated over and over in Rey's head, drowning out everything else:

 

Dragonborn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and Rey's first encounter with a dragon! 
> 
> Destiny's calling. Wonder if Rey will pick up?
> 
>  
> 
> You'll notice the rating has gone up. I decided that the violence in future battle scenes warranted a mature rating.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey sees an old friend and learns some of what being a Dragonborn entails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm a week late because I was SUPER busy last Friday. But that means I'm gonna post TWO chapters today. Then it will be back to regularly scheduled programming.

The short journey back to Whiterun was filled with victorious singing and shouting, the Companions leading the way. Rey and Finn hung back to talk about what had occurred. 

 

“Rey, I think they’re right. I’ve seen Kylo Ren fight a dragon.” Finn was saying. “And it ended the same way.”

 

“But… how can that be?” She looked at Finn helplessly. “There’s only one Dragonborn. Kylo Ren. Right?” She had heard the name before. After (what was evidently not) the last of the dragons was killed, the name had become associated with the Emperor’s will. And cruelty. 

Finn gazed at her thoughtfully. “Maybe not. It’s never happened before, but who’s to say it couldn’t?”

 

“Where does that leave me then?” Rey exclaimed in exasperation. “What does it mean?”

 

“I guess it means that Kylo Ren isn’t the only dragonslayer around.” Finn suddenly grinned with excitement. “And you’re on our side! I mean, if you want to be. Oh, please be on our side!” He had stopped and taken her shoulders in his hands. 

 

She stared at him. “Huh?” 

 

“Fight with the Resistance and take down Kylo Ren. Since the dragons disappeared he’s been using those infernal Shouts on our people.” Finn almost spat on the ground with disgust. Rey was shocked to see this side of Finn. She put her hands on his forearms and gently removed his hands from her shoulders. 

 

“I can’t fight someone like that,” she told him. “I’m not a warrior. I just want to go home.” The entire ordeal was so overwhelming that even her tiny bed at Jakku Orphanage seemed like heaven. 

 

“You took out that dragon.” Finn responded stubbornly. “And Kylo Ren is just a smaller one of those.”

 

Rey laughed humorlessly. She had never seen Kylo Ren, but knew of his exploits enough to be certain he would be harder to fight than Finn said. 

 

“Finn, I can’t. I just want to get back to Riften.” She said apologetically. 

 

Finn stopped. “Rey,  _ why _ ?” Rey looked at him in surprise. This was the first time she had heard him angry. “What is so important there? You’re an adult who still lives in the orphanage you grew up in. You steal and manipulate for an Argonian who abuses you. What kind of life is that? There’s  _ nothing _ for you there!” 

 

Rey stared at him, feeling rage bubble inside her. She had explained to Finn on their journey what life was like and didn’t expect him to use it against her. But she knew her anger was not at him but at the truth he told, what she had been hiding from for so long. The small hope her parents would return, slowly cracking over the years, finally shattered, but she stubbornly held onto the fragments, even as they fell through her fingers. Tears pricked at her eyes and she tried to blink them away, turning her head in a vain attempt to hide her grief.

 

Finn groaned and put a hand on her arm. “Rey,” he said gently, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

 

She stepped out of his reach. “It’s fine, Finn.” She tried very hard not to let the sudden despair overtake her. 

 

Finn gave her a sympathetic look, which only further angered her. She didn’t want his pity. He couldn’t understand the important of her return to Riften.

 

“Come with me to Windhelm? We can help. And, honestly, we need  _ you _ .” The offer was unexpected and so serious that Rey quickly moved from anger to fear. How could she help the Resistance when she didn’t know who or what she was? 

 

As they approached the stable outside of Whiterun, the returning victors saw a Khajiit caravan setting up tents just opposite the stable. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the rickety carts and colorful flags which hung from the tents. She suddenly broke into a run, leaving Finn, the group of warriors, and the confusion that came with them all behind her. 

 

“Maz!” She shouted as she approached the first tent, toward a figure sitting on a pile of colorful pillows just outside it. “Maz!”

 

The Khajiit, extremely small for her species, peered at Rey, disbelief and then a wide grin crossing her features. “Rey, my child!” 

 

Rey grinned and this time let the tears run freely down her cheek as she slid to a stop and knelt to hug the Khajiit fortune teller tightly. Fate had pulled in Rey’s favor for once, her only friend in the world appearing just when Rey needed her. 

 

“Oh, don’t crush me child!” Maz Kanata laughed. “My bones are not as young as yours.” She sighed and looked at Rey fondly. “It is good to see you, my dear. But what are these tears?” The thumb of one of her soft, furred hands came up and gently wiped away Rey’s tears. 

 

“I’m happy to see you,” Rey replied, her voice thick with emotion. She swallowed the next sob in order to speak, facing a truth she had refused to acknowledge since departing Riften. “I… I left Unkar. I think for good.” She added quietly. Maz’s expression turned serious. 

 

“You have done a brave thing, Rey.” Maz looked at her as if she already knew why Rey had done it and the girl looked at her curiously. She would forever be mystified by Maz’s uncanny way of knowing exactly what Rey did and why, even before Rey herself knew. 

 

“Something else just happened.” Rey began, but was interrupted by a loud, earth shattering shout. She shot up to her feet, fearing another dragon attack, and twisted to face the mountain to the south, where the sound had originated. When the air stilled and all was quiet again, Maz hummed. Rey turned to find the little Khajiit nodding sagely. 

 

“Maz, do you know what that was?” 

 

Before Maz could answer the group from Whiterun approached, everyone pointing or shouting at Rey. Finn appeared at her side and put a hand on her shoulder. 

 

“It’s High Hrothgar!” Someone yelled.

 

“The Greybeards call for the Dragonborn!” Another added.

 

Rey looked between Finn and Maz in confusion as the people surrounded her. “The Greybeards?”

 

* * *

 

Maz invited the two young people into her tent for a “refreshing cup of tea” and a talk. Rey had been glad to escape the noise and crowd of people who had come back from the battle with the dragon and had consequently crowded around her. Maz’s fleet of Khajiit had distracted the group enough for Rey and Finn to disappear into Maz’s tent. 

 

“Now.” Maz sat on a giant floor pillow and the two young people followed suit; she poured and handed Rey and Finn steaming cups of fragrant tea, imported from Elsweyr. The steam filled the tent with a calming, floral scent, reminding Rey of a springtime meadow. “We can discuss Rey’s new circumstances.” She sipped her tea with a twinkle in her golden eyes.

 

“So she is Dragonborn?” Finn asked eagerly, earning a scowl from Rey. She knew why he was so excited about it, but it was still annoying that he couldn’t see she was terrified. 

 

Maz gave a nod. “Yes, she is.” She looked at Rey with a soft smile.

 

Rey swallowed, her throat was dry but she felt unable to drink the tea in her trembling hands. “How can I be something that already exists? Finn said Kylo Ren…” she stopped when she saw Maz’s serious expression. 

 

“It is unprecedented for two Dragonborn to exist at a single time.” The Khajiit said solemnly. “It appears that it is a… a duel of the fates.” She smiled slyly and took another sip of her tea. Rey once again felt that Maz knew more than she let on. 

 

“I don’t understand.” Rey whispered, scared and despairing. “Where do I fit in? I don’t want this. I never asked for this. I need to get back to Riften. You know, Maz, you know why.” She implored her friend desperately.

 

Maz raised a hand to stop Finn before he could open his mouth to argue with Rey and looked at her kindly. “Dear child, the belonging you seek is not behind you - it is ahead. Close your eyes. Feel it. It has always been there.”

 

At that everything Rey dropped everything she had been holding in her heart and she felt even more frightened. “I need someone to show me my place in all of this.” She whispered. All her plans had been wiped away and replaced with a blank map.

 

Maz’s expression became unreadable and she sighed heavily. “Then you should heed the call of the Greybeards and go to High Hrothgar, though I cannot say for certain that you will find the answers you seek.” Anticipating Rey’s questions, she held up her hand again to continue. “The Greybeards are trained in the Way of the Voice, the ancient art of mastering the dragon language. High Hrothgar is their, well, temple of sorts. You have the ability to speak the dragon tongue, though you know not any Words of Power yet.”

 

Rey frowned, distracted momentarily from the terrifying freedom she now possessed. “I can speak dragon?”

 

Maz nodded. “You have the soul of a dragon, child. That is what it means to be Dragonborn. Only a dragon can send another dragon to its true death.”

 

“But the Greybeards aren’t Dragonborn?”

 

“I thought the Greybeards were monks.” Finn cut in, confused. 

 

Maz shrugged, the colorful shawl around her tiny shoulders falling down her arms. “Monks, priests, students, they are many things. But no, they are not Dragonborn. They may know how to speak the language, but they cannot consume a dragon’s soul, or use the Words of Power against another living being.”

 

“But they can speak the dragon language,” Rey spoke slowly. “How do they do that?”

 

The Khajiit woman waved her hands around, as if annoyed. “I don’t know specifics, child. I merely know what I know.” 

 

“How can they help me?” Rey huffed, frustrated. 

 

“They can show you how to unlock the powers inside you. At least, some of them. Not being Dragonborn themselves I’m sure limits their usefulness.” Maz closed her eyes and savored her tea for a moment. The other two took the pause as opportunity to drink their own tea. Rey felt the beverage sink into her bones, its warmth comforting and soothing her prickling anxiety. 

 

“They are not my favorite people,” Maz continued. “But they are the only ones who can tutor you in using the Voice.”

 

“Why don’t you like them?” Rey asked with concern. Maz very rarely disliked anyone and very few disliked her in turn. She had a certain charm, even more so than the Khajiit usually had, that disarmed and drew people to her, initiating instant trust.  

 

The Khajiit’s normally placid expression turned hard, some memory tearing through her mind. “Mistakes have been made in the past.” She responded cryptically. “But I hope that, now,” her eyes flicked to Rey’s, “all will be rectified.”

 

Rey sat back and let out a deep breath. While Maz had answered some questions, many others had arisen. Rey had no idea what to do. She looked at Finn, who was frowning into his tea. He raised his head to face her, his mouth set in a determined line. 

 

“I think I have to go.” She whispered apologetically. He nodded and set his tea down.

 

“If you go to the mountain, I’m going with you.” He stated.

 

“Finn, what about-?” 

 

“No.” He cut her off. “You helped me. I’ll help you with this. Windhelm can wait.”

 

Rey considered him for a moment with awe. His loyalty and kindness were strange to her, strange and wonderful. She had also become aware enough of his stubbornness to know he would not change his mind about going with her, no matter how she argued. She instantly made up her own mind, making a snap decision that would probably alter her life forever, more so than it already had been. 

 

“Alright. But you have something important to do. We’ll go to Windhelm first.” He looked at her gratefully and she gave a small smile in return. If she was Dragonborn and had the power to help the people of Skyrim, than she would join the Resistance. 

 

Maz looked between the two of them and laughed. Rey and Finn turned to her with questioning expressions. 

 

“The Resistance, eh?” Maz continued to chuckle as she spoke. Finn’s eyes widened in shock and Rey gasped. 

 

“How did…?” Finn stuttered, obviously concerned his cover would be blown, more so than it already was.

 

“These eyes may be old but they still work.” She pointed at her eyes as she spoke. “This truly will be a joy to watch unfold. One Dragonborn with the Resistance, another with the Empire.” She laughed again. “The Divines do have a sense of humor.” 

 

Rey couldn’t help but smile. Maz’s laughter was contagious and felt like a relief after their heavy conversation. The little Khajiit sighed as the last bubble of laughter left her and she once again smiled at Rey and Finn. 

 

“I believe you must go now, my children. There is someone waiting for you and I believe it will be worth your time.” 

 

Finn looked at Rey questioningly, but she only shrugged. Maz was a fortune teller and always had some prediction, some more cryptic than others. 

 

“Oh,” the Khajiit stood, “I nearly forgot. I have a gift for you.” She walked over to a chest at the back of her tent and searched through it, muttering to herself about having too many useless trinkets, before emerging victorious with three books, tied together with a string. “I was going to give these to you when I next came to Riften. I do think you shall be needing them.” She handed the books to Rey, who took them eagerly. 

 

She tore the string off and spread the books before her. All three were spell tomes, each different and new to Rey. Three schools of magic were represented: Illusion, Destruction, and Conjuration - her strengths. Her eyes widened at the level of mastery each needed and she stared at Maz. 

 

“I don’t think I’m ready for these!” She exclaimed. Finn looked over her shoulder at the books curiously. He wasn’t schooled in magic himself, but did recognize apprentice level spells. He looked from the books to Rey in surprise. 

 

“Nonsense.” Maz waved a hand, shooing the question away as if it were a fly. “Of course you are. You are more than you know. Now, go. You are needed elsewhere.” She stopped and chuckled at her unintended allusion to her homeland. “You and I shall meet again.”

 

* * *

 

It was sunset when Finn and Rey emerged from Maz’s tent, the auroras in the sky above teasing their appearance with the first stars. The pair were quiet as they made their way back into Whiterun. The city was still in an uproar over the dragon attack, people scurrying back and forth, discussing the event with their neighbors. As Finn and Rey approached the Twin Suns Inn, eager for a rest and a mead, they were stopped by a messenger. 

 

“Jarl Holdo requires your presence at Dragonsreach.” The boy said stiffly, taking his duty very seriously. “Please follow me.” He turned on his heel and started for the stone stairs that led to the Cloud District. Rey and Finn exchanged a look. Apparently Maz had been correct. 

They followed the boy into the Cloud District, passing by a flowering tree which stood proudly in the center of the square. Rey gawked at an enormous statue of Talos which stood diagonally to the tree. A man stood before the statue, shouting at passersby about Talos and the benefits of worshipping him; Whiterun truly was able to do whatever it wanted. 

 

The messenger led them past the statue and to another flight of steps, which wound up a rocky precipice to the giant hall that was Dragonsreach. An aqueduct flowed parallel to the stairs, making its way into the heart of the city. At the summit Finn and Rey were met with giant doors, which opened to them from the inside. Rey had never before seen a hall as great as this one - Riften’s Jarl lived in squalor in comparison. The hall was made of two levels, its ceiling at least twenty feet high. There was a long, food-laden table in the center of the hall, and torches hung on the wooden pillars which supported the gigantic building, lighting the path to the Jarl’s throne. The first thing Rey noticed as her eyes skimmed to the back of the room was the dragon’s skull, jaw gaping open in a toothy snarl, hanging just above the throne. If its purpose was to intimidate, it did a fair job. Rey was suddenly conscious that it was the second dragon skull she had seen in one day, more than she had ever thought she would see in her lifetime. 

 

The woman who sat in the chair below the skull was tall, her stature apparent despite her relaxed posture. Her hair was lilac in color and her long fingers were decorated with rings which glinted in the firelight as she beckoned Rey and Finn forward. Her dress was light gray and richly brocaded in vines; the long sleeves widened at the wrists, the loose fabric tapering off her arms in a long trail that nearly brushed the floor as she rested her arms on her chair. There was an Orc which stood a step behind the Jarl’s throne, her hands on the sword at her side. She sneered at the newcomers as they approached. Even fighting a fire-breathing dragon hadn’t been as intimidating as it was facing the Orc’s fierce gaze.

 

Rey and Finn stopped at the crest of the steps which led to the Jarl’s seat, elevated from the rest of the room to emphasize her status. 

 

“You are the warriors whom I have to thank for saving Whiterun.” Jarl Holdo’s voice was gentle, belying a steel spine Rey knew she must have to be in this position. “Which one of you delivered the final blow to the beast?”

 

Finn nudged Rey forward when she hesitated to answer and Rey took an involuntary step forward. “M-Me ma’am.” 

 

Jarl Holdo smiled kindly. “What is your name?”

 

“Rey.” 

 

“Lady Rey, I must thank you for your services to my hold. If there is anything we can do in return, name it.” She said and bowed her head slightly in deference. 

 

“T-thank you.” Rey cursed her nervous tongue for its stutter. “Thank you, Jarl Holdo.” She added more strongly. 

 

The Jarl raised her head. “There is another reason why I called you here. We all heard the call from the Greybeards and my guards told me what occurred at the watchtower. Is what they say true?” She looked at the two expectantly.

 

Rey glanced at Finn who nodded encouragingly.

 

“It appears that I am Dragonborn.” Said Rey tentatively. It was bizarre to speak the term so irrefutably about herself. 

 

Holdo hummed and contemplated Rey for a moment. Rey had to stop herself from squirming under the Jarl’s blue-grey eyes. 

 

“Who is your companion?” Holdo turned to Finn, who immediately stood at attention. Rey was relieved to have Holdo’s scrutiny turn away from her. 

 

“Finn, ma’am.”

 

“I thank you as well for your service to my Hold. I understand you fought with my soldiers.” He nodded and she bowed her head to him as well. “Now, tell me, is there something we can do in return?”

 

Rey took a deep breath and looked at Finn. She whispered something to him and he nodded in affirmation. “If we could have another horse and enough supplies to get us to Windhelm, that would be a great help.” She told the Jarl. 

 

Holdo narrowed her eyes and cast a glance at the Orc behind her before turning back to Rey and Finn. “Windhelm. The realm of  Jarl Organa. Might you be… associates of hers?” She looked between them, but Rey had no idea who she was talking about. Finn stiffened beside her, though, and Rey realized then that Jarl Organa must be connected to the Resistance. “Know you are in a neutral place here, my friends.” Holdo added at their hesitation. 

 

Finn cleared his throat. “I have business with the Jarl, yes. ” 

 

Holdo’s smile was almost imperceptible. “Well then. Come forward, Finn.” He stepped toward her and she waved her hand for him to come even closer. Rey watched as he moved close enough that Holdo could whisper in his ear. Whatever she said made him grin and he gave a nod and bowed when she finished. 

 

“I will be sure to give her your regards, Jarl Holdo.” He said and returned to Rey’s side. She looked at him curiously, but he kept his eyes on Holdo. 

 

“Very good.” The Jarl said. “You will be given a horse and all the supplies you need. My steward,” she nodded toward a balding man at the table below them, “will take care of the details. You may rest in my hall for the night. I’ll ensure rooms are prepared for you both; it is the least my people can do. If you ever find yourselves in Whiterun again, consider it my pleasure to host you.” With that she stood and walked to a door at her right, exiting the hall. Their audience was over and it left Rey feeling strange. Whatever had transpired between Finn and the Jarl she intuitively felt involved her and she resented the fact she had been excluded.

 

“What did she tell you?” Rey whispered to Finn as they were led by a servant to the table to join the evening meal. 

 

He shook his head. “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Let’s just say for now that it’ll make my people very happy.” He grinned at her and happily poured a tankard of mead for the two of them. She took  the one he pushed toward her reluctantly and clinked it to his. She would respect his silence for now, but the expression she gave him ensured he knew she wasn’t going to forget it.

 

The meal was incredible. More food and drink than Rey had ever had in her life was put in front of her and she allowed herself to enjoy it. Beef roasts, cheeses, various pies, and sweet rolls were replenished again and again and Rey took advantage of every new dish that arrived. 

The people of Holdo’s hall were friendly and cheered the victory against the dragon. Discussion of the event led some to say that this was just the start of a new incursion of dragons in Skyrim. Two Dragonborn in one age, they said, foreshadowed a terrible war with the beasts. Rey shuddered at the thought. She was no stranger to a fight, but battling dragons for the rest of her life was less than appealing. Finn convinced her to ignore the depressing talk and pushed more mead at her. She drank gratefully and for the rest of the night refused to be put into a bad mood, either by talk of dragons, the Dragonborn, or the war. 

 

It was late in the evening by the time she flopped into the most comfortable bed in which she had ever lain. Her cot at the orphanage was bare wood covered in hay with a threadbare blanket which barely covered her toes. Never had she ever thought she would be able to sleep on a mattress filled with goosefeathers, under a giant quilt, in a room that was fit for a princess. She forced herself to stand and undress, trotting to a vanity which held a bowl and pitcher of water. She realized as she looked at herself in the mirror that she was filthy, the soot and dirt from the battle with the dragon still sticking to her skin. She grabbed a cloth that was next to the pitcher and scrubbed her body thoroughly. Refreshed, she turned to the dresser and looked inside. There were a nightgown and warm slippers inside, both probably worth more than anything she owned. She pulled the nightgown over head but left the slippers. The nights hadn’t gotten so cold yet to warrant them and the room was already warm due to the fire which blazed quietly in a corner fireplace opposite the bed.

 

She was amazed at the thoughtfulness Jarl Holdo had put into their accommodations. Finn’s bedroom was across the hall from Rey’s and she assumed he was enjoying the same comforts. Rey slipped under the soft quilt on the bed and groaned in relief at the softness which surrounded her. The events of the day hit her all at once as she lay there: the battle, absorbing the dragon soul, her new destiny, the unspoken decision to join the Resistance. Too weary to handle the thoughts whirling around in her head, she closed her eyes and instantly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Finn have a dangerous encounter on the way to Windhelm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited about this one! Enjoy!

Rey and Finn awoke early the next morning to continue their journey. The brief stay in Whiterun had been a welcome respite from the Imperial presence on the roads, but the two had to venture out once again to get Finn to Windhelm. Rey was apprehensive about going to Windhelm but Finn had told her she could get weapons and magicka training there, something Rey had desired for a long time. When they reached the stables outside of the city, they found their horses ready to be saddled and two overflowing saddlebags. Rey looked around for Maz’s caravan, but the Khajiit group had apparently already moved on to their next destination. She was disappointed, but trusted in Maz’s prediction that they would see each other again. 

 

“Once I give my report we’ll go to the mountain.” Finn said as they slung saddlebags over their horses. Rey still had Falcon, but had asked Jarl Holdo’s steward to send the wagon back to the orphanage. Finn’s horse was a bay steed with a star on his forehead and a needy attitude. He kept nudging Finn for treats and didn’t mind using his teeth to make his point. He had already torn the edge of Finn’s tunic.

 

Rey nodded but felt she had to give him an out, even though she knew he would refuse it. “You don’t have to, Finn. You and I both know how risky it would be for you.” She cinched Falcon’s saddle (also provided by Holdo) as she spoke, causing the horse to nicker in protest. 

 

“Rey, I owe you.” Finn replied seriously. “You helped me and didn’t even know who I was.” He came round Falcon and took her hands in his. “I’m going to help you with this. You’re my friend.”

 

Rey looked down at their joined hands and again wondered at Finn’s unconditional loyalty. 

“Thank you, Finn.” She responded softly. He grinned and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, which knocked the breath out of her. “Oof!”

 

“And as your friend, I’m gonna be by your side every step of the way.” He said as he pulled away. 

 

All Rey could do was give him an affectionate smile and nod, still out of breath from the hug. Finn grinned in response and the two then mounted their horses.

 

They decided to follow the road into Eastmarch, following the White River. It was the most direct route to Windhelm from Whiterun. It also wound a little too close to the Rift, but it was a risk Finn said he was willing to take in exchange for a speedy return to the Resistance. Going through the Pale would add almost a week to their journey and Finn’s information was too important for a long delay. Rey couldn’t say she was completely comfortable with the plan, but it was plausible the Empire agents after Finn would assume the fugitive would go north versus back toward the way he had come. Windhelm was only two days away on the eastern road. 

 

It was noon by the time the two travelers made it to the juncture of the White River and its sister, the Darkwater River. Whiterun was well behind them and the two had only seen a handful of other travelers along the road. No Imperials. They decided it was time to enjoy a short break and allow the horses to rest as well. 

 

After guiding their mounts to the edge of the water where the two rivers joined, Finn and Rey dismounted. Rey pulled out some bread and cheese from her saddlebags and Finn took out a water bag. They sat on the bank of the river and ate, enjoying a pleasant discussion as relaxed. Their conversation moved to Finn’s experience in the Resistance. Rey had been hesitant before to ask him too many questions, lest she make him uneasy, but in their new circumstances she had no qualms. 

 

“How’d you join up with them?” She asked around a mouthful of bread. 

 

“They recruited me while I was in the Legion,” he replied. His eyes took in the river and their surroundings as he spoke. “There were things that the Legion began to do… Terrorizing innocent people… taking property… It was so unnecessary and cruel that I began to doubt their reasons. I don’t know how the Resistance knew I was questioning the Empire, but they did. I became an informant for them. But I,” he sighed, “I wasn’t careful enough. I found out something important and got too eager to go on leave. My commanding officer found out I was contacting the Resistance and I had to escape from my unit. Only three months into my work for the Resistance and I failed.” He hung his head and tossed a piece of bread toward a bird chirping for scraps. 

 

Rey reached over and put a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “I’m sure you did your best.” She comforted. “They will understand.”

 

“I hope so.” He looked up, toward the bridge which crossed the rivers. “I’ve never actually been to Windhelm or met anybody in the Resistance except my handler.” He admitted. “I don’t even know if my handler knows what happened to me and I don’t know what happened to her.” 

 

Hooves pounding on the road above them interrupted Rey’s response. The two jumped up and listened, adrenaline spiking. 

 

“One horse,” Rey breathed in relief and urged her heart to slow down. Not an Imperial legion then. “We should probably go, though.” 

 

Finn nodded and the two mounted their horses. When they had made it back to the road Rey felt a prickle on the back of her neck, a sigh on the wind. She turned her head and went cold. The approaching rider was indeed alone, but now they were close enough for Rey to see the Imperial emblem upon their chest armor. 

 

“Finn!” She cried. He turned and with one movement the two of them spurred their horses into a gallop. It was too late. The rider sped past them, a black blur upon the bridge. Rey had never seen a horse move so quickly. For a moment she thought that maybe the newcomer didn’t know who they were and she had made a mistake in their intent, but that hope died as the rider rounded their black mount and stopped in the road, facing Finn and Rey as they charged over the bridge. They pulled their horses up hard to avoid colliding with the new threat. 

 

The rider, clad only in black except for the red Imperial emblem on his chest armor, sat atop his restless steed only feet away from them. He wore a helmet that covered his entire face as a mask, with only his eyes appearing from beneath the terrible facade. A black cloak flowed from his shoulders and covered the flank of his horse. Rey couldn’t breathe. The man drew his weapon, a massive broadsword to match his equally massive frame. Somehow he was able hold the two-handed weapon in one hand while his other pointed at Finn. 

 

“TRAITOR.” 

 

The word was spat across the small space which separated them, the deep voice of the speaker a thunderclap in the still air. Finn gripped the reins of his horse tightly and looked at Rey. The defeat in his eyes served to light a fire inside her and she faced the Imperial soldier and drew her own rusty weapon. 

 

“Rey?” Finn sounded terrified. Rey was just as terrified but she wouldn’t let Finn be taken without a fight. 

 

The rider tilted his head slightly, as if puzzled or amused by her move. She stiffened and looked at Finn resolutely. 

 

“Ride.” She growled and spurred Falcon into an immediate gallop. There was only one of him and two of them. They could at least disorient him enough to get away. Time seemed to slow as they approached their enemy; his horse reared as he raised his broadsword and brought it down in a wide swing toward Rey. She instinctively raised her hand to create a magical ward to fend off the blow. The ward worked but the collision with his weapon knocked her off Falcon. Finn made it past the masked rider but did not notice Rey had been dismounted. 

 

Rey scrambled to her feet and grabbed her sword from where it had fallen as the Imperial soldier jumped off his horse and stalked toward her. She was frozen in place as he moved, completely struck by how  _ big _ he was. He had looked large on his horse, but now he was absolutely giant. At least a foot taller than she with a body the size of a tree. A daedric prince in the flesh. 

 

He lumbered toward her and swung his sword easily in one hand. She raised her smaller weapon and struggled to find a spell in her brain that would help her. Her enemy took advantage of her distraction and swung his sword at her neck, which she just barely dodged. 

 

As she straightened up she felt a vice wrap around her neck and her feet lift from the ground. She dropped her sword and both hands gripped at the forearm of the rider, who now had her in his gloved grip. She struggled to breath and could only look down into the masked man’s eyes, the only thing she could see. They were dark and full of rage, but also curious. As she struggled in his hold, not quite being strangled, she realized he was examining her. In a moment she felt it too. A small, fuzzy feeling, as if he were familiar but she knew he couldn’t. The realization caused her to stop moving and stare at him in turn. His own eyes went from furious to surprise and his grip around her throat slackened slightly. The entire exchange occurred in only a few seconds. A pounding from behind them broke the spell and the man turned, forced to drop Rey as a mace came swinging toward his head. The weapon caught the edge of the man’s mask and it was ripped off. The man stumbled to his knees but quickly rose again and whirled on Rey. 

 

Rey sputtered and stumbled to her feet, a hand going to her throat as oxygen filled her lungs again. She grabbed her sword from where it had fallen and twisted to defend herself. Time slowed once more as she met her enemy’s eyes again. His mask was gone - his face was contorted with rage, his jaw clenched. It struck her even through her panic-induced haze how young he looked; he was clean shaven with shoulder length, jet-black hair that curled wildly around his face in sweaty strings. There was a beauty in his asymmetrical face that would have been more evident had it not been distorted with fury. His mask lay forgotten on the road as he widened his legs into a defensive stance, his sword ready for the next attack.

The two fugitives had no intention of making a new attack. Finn swung his horse around and hurried back to Rey. She reached for his outstretched hand and swung herself up onto the horse behind him. Finn sent his horse into a wild gallop and as they ran past the man with the mask they just barely missed a swipe from the his broadsword.

 

Their enemy howled in rage and ran back to his horse. Before he could mount, however, Rey sent a flame atronach straight into the middle of his path. It wouldn’t last long, not against him, but she hoped it would be a enough of a distraction. Finn spurred his horse on and as they passed Falcon, who had stopped when Rey had fallen, she called to the horse and she immediately followed. She looked back and saw the stranger finishing off the atronach, but his horse had galloped away - frightened, Rey guessed, by the fire. She caught the man looking after them and watched as his sword dropped to his side, his cloak billowing slightly in the wind. She felt almost melancholic about the image he made, but quickly shook it off, looked away, and took a deep breath. 

 

They were alive. 

 

* * *

 

Kylo Ren’s mask lay forgotten on the ground where it had fallen. He watched as the dust settled after his quarry’s escape. 

 

His breathing was erratic.

 

He could not believe. Did not want to believe.

 

He wasn’t alone. There was another. 

 

She was Dragonborn. 

 

Something filled him with the anger he felt at losing the fugitive. An emotion that surprised and angered him. 

 

Relief.

 

* * *

 

 

“That was  _ Kylo Ren _ ?” Rey squeaked. She and Finn were encamped in a small cave well off the road. The horses were tethered inside with them, neither of them wanting to risk the two animals being spotted. Night had fallen and it was raining but that wouldn’t stop who pursued them. 

 

Finn nodded gravely. “The Emperor’s Knight. Leader of the Knights of Ren, Dragonborn, and scourge of Skyrim.” He threw a stick into their campfire and the flames burst, emphasizing Finn’s words.

 

Rey stared at Finn blankly. The relief at having escaped was quickly replaced by shock. Even though technically the knight was under the authority of General Tullius (Skyrim’s official Imperial representative), Ren’s only allegiance was to the Emperor. Rey knew of Ren’s deeds, his ruthlessness in carrying out the Emperor’s bidding. No one knew his origin and there were plenty of myths and rumors that arisen to fill in the blanks. Most said he was a demon from Oblivion, summoned by a daedric prince to wreak havoc on Skyrim. Indeed, from what she had experienced today, he very well could have been. 

 

“How are we not dead?” She wondered aloud. Finn laughed humorlessly. 

 

“I don’t know. Did you use magicka? I thought for sure he would see me coming before I knocked his helmet off.” 

 

Rey frowned as she thought. “Something happened,” she said after a moment. “He… I… well, we both, I guess, must have felt it.” 

 

“Felt?” Finn echoed. “Felt what?”

 

“I don’t know.” Rey took a deep breath and blew it onto her cold fingers to warm them. “I knew him, somehow. Not knew him, but there was something familiar about him. I’ve felt it before…” She tried to remember where or when, then it came to her in a rush. 

 

“He’s Dragonborn.” She stated flatly.

 

“Yes.” Finn drew out the word slowly. “I just told you that.”

 

“No. That’s what I felt. The dragon soul inside him. It felt like when I killed the dragon. What I feel inside me now.” The sudden epiphany had her reeling. “I think I could sense him coming, too.”

 

“What in the Realms are you talking about?” Finn exclaimed. “That’s impossible!”

 

“Is it?” She shot back. “Maz said this is the first time in history two Dragonborn have existed in the same era. Considering that, why couldn’t we sense each other?” She didn’t know why she felt so defensive over the issue. 

 

Finn slumped back against the cave wall where he sat. “I guess there isn’t really a precedence for this sort of thing,” he admitted. “But it’s still strange.” 

 

“Yes, it is.” She murmured and shivered. The idea of being connected in such a way to another person, especially Kylo Ren, was unpleasant at best. What was the extent of the connection? Her imagination led her to think of dire possibilities. There was a moment of silence as the two stared at the fire, both contemplating the events and revelations of the day. 

 

“How’s your throat?” Finn broke the quiet softly. 

 

Rey’s right hand automatically went to her neck and she winced at the bruises that had formed there. 

 

“Fine.” She muttered. It still hurt a little to breathe but in all honesty it was nothing compared to the abuse she had suffered under Plutt. Kylo Ren hadn’t meant to kill her or she would have been dead the second he had grabbed her. 

 

Finn raised a brow skeptically. Rey rolled her eyes. 

 

“It’s fine, really,” she insisted. “I don’t even have to use magicka on it.” 

 

He still looked doubtful but didn’t press her. “Thanks for saving me. Again.” He said softly. Rey gazed at the fire and nodded. 

 

“You’re welcome,” she whispered. “We should get some sleep now.” She placed her saddlebags next to the fire and slid down to rest her head on them. Finn followed her example and heaved a sigh as he closed his eyes. Rey watched him as he almost immediately fell asleep, but found herself unable to drift off.

 

She stared at the fire, lost in thought, long into the night. She felt overwhelmed and confused. Her decision to help Finn had thrust her into the middle of a war and awakened a power inside her she didn’t know she possessed. Never in her twenty-two years had she ever dreamed that having her freedom would be so frightening.

 

They would arrive at Windhelm the next day and she had strong feeling the situation was going to get even more complicated.

 

* * *

 

_ The wall was covered in runes which Rey couldn’t read. Ancient Nordic. A hand which wasn’t hers reached out and touched the wall, its long fingers caressing the stone reverently. A drumming drowned out all thought in her head and three of the runes started to glow blue. A word replaced the drumming. A word of great power.  _

 

Rey woke with a start. The fire had subsided into embers, glowing faintly beside her, and Finn was snoring softly. There were no runes, no strange hand, no drumming. All was it should be, yet Rey could not easily shake the dream. Shea spent hours staring at the dead fire, attempting to analyze the vision. When sleep found her again she was no closer to an answer and the mysterious word continued to echo in her mind. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Finn arrive in Windhelm and meet the leaders of the Resistance. 
> 
> In Solitude, the Emperor's knight, Kylo Ren, must face his failure to capture the traitor and the existence of a new Dragonborn.

Windhelm was an ancient city, one of the oldest in Skyrim. Within its borders was the original seat of the High King of Skyrim, the Jarl who had reigned above all others, that is, before the Empire. It sat upon an inlet of the Sea of Ghosts, guarding one of Skyrim’s two ports ominously with its stone facade.  The only entrance to the city on the landward side was by crossing an intimidating granite bridge; guards were stationed along the structure eyeing the newcomers suspiciously. Contrary to the atmosphere on the bridge, the great iron gates to the city opened to a friendly sight: a fire roaring in a large, iron fire pit, set just outside an inn in the center of a small city square. The city split into two branches from there, to the left Rey heard the familiar sounds of a blacksmith and to the right the city dipped into a lower level which held the residential areas.

 

While she wanted to take in the new city and all its interesting details, Rey could not concentrate on anything except the cold. Her skin was accustomed to the temperate climates of the Rift and her cotton tunic was woefully inadequate to warm her. The only goal she had was getting to their destination as quickly as possible. When Finn said the palace was just beyond the inn, Rey did not hesitate.  

 

Finn had to trot to keep up as her freezing feet darted toward the Palace of the Kings. Rey did not even bother to register the massive stone building as she rapped on its giant wooden doors. The wind picked up and pierced her thin shirt with its cruel tendrils, leaving her on the verge of begging just when the door was unlatched from the other side.

 

A curious guard greeted her when the door opened. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Rey’s shivering figure and Finn doubled over as he tried to catch his breath.

 

“May the warrior god give you strength,” he gasped at the guard, his hands on his knees.

 

The guard’s eyes widened and she looked between the two of them quickly before opening the door a little wider so that they could walk in. Rey rushed inside, her eyes landing on a nearby torch, and she breathed a sigh of relief when her fingers met its warmth.

 

“It’s cursedly cold here.” She whined as Finn joined her. He looked like he was keeping back a laugh and she pinched his arm. He yelped and hopped away from her, but was still grinning. “It’s not funny.” She muttered.

 

“You two. Follow me.” The guard who had let them in ordered gruffly. She led the two down the long, stone hall. Rey noticed it was similar in design to Dragonsreach, except made of stone with lower ceilings. There was the long table, torches on the pillars, and a throne at the end of the room. There was no one upon it though. The guard stopped abruptly and told them to wait at the throne, then strode through a door to their left.

 

Rey and Finn glanced at each other.

 

“So, they know we’re not the enemy, right?” She asked nervously. The curt guard did not leave her confident they would be welcomed with open arms by the Resistance.

 

“I used the code words.” Finn shrugged, but also looked unsure. “Unless those have changed since I got found out, we should be fine.”

 

Rey scowled. “The Resistance want to find new code words anyway. It’s obvious you’re talking about Talos.”

 

“I didn’t come up with it.” He defended, raising his hands.

 

Just then the guard reappeared, an entourage of people behind her. At the lead was a short, older woman with brown hair streaked with grey and done up in intricate braids atop her head. She wore a dark blue gown with a fur collar that Rey was immediately envious of, if only for the warmth it must have provided. Upon reaching the throne, the woman sat upon it and two people moved to either side of it. One was a man with dark, curly hair and a friendly face, if a little worn looking. The other was a younger woman with blonde hair made up in similar braids as the older woman.  

 

Rey shifted on her feet, immediately intimidated. She glanced at Finn and found he was looking in awe at the woman on the throne. He went to one knee and bowed his head.

 

“High King Organa.” He pronounced respectfully. Rey looked between him and the woman helplessly, unsure if she should bow or not. She wasn’t technically in the Resistance yet and felt completely at a loss as to protocol.

 

“Oh, get up. And it’s Jarl Organa. That High King business is too stuffy.” The woman waved a hand to indicate Finn should stand, which he did. “First things first. Your names.” She looked at the two young people expectantly.

 

“I’m Finn, and this is Rey.” He gestured to Rey who nodded silently in assent. She found speaking a little difficult. “I’m an agent for the Resistance, but I was discovered by the Empire and had to flee.” He explained.

 

Jarl Organa looked at the man who stood to her left. “Commander Dameron?”

 

He nodded. “We have records of a Finn in our ranks. His handler is Rose Tico.”

 

“Ah, yes.”

 

Finn looked at them with wide eyes. “Is Rose here? Is she alright? I had to run… I had… I had to…” Rey watched as guilt overwhelmed him and put a hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath and seemed steadied by her quiet support.

 

“Finn, have no fear. Rose is incredibly resourceful.” Jarl Organa said kindly. “She is safe and within these walls. You may see her after we discuss what you have brought us. I assume you have information?” Her tone had become serious.

 

“I do. First, Skyrim is expecting a visit from the emperor, very soon.” He spoke clearly. There was a murmur amongst the people and Jarl Organa’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Go on.” She demanded.

 

“I don’t have many details,” Finn faltered. “But he will be arriving at Solitude first. I think the plans include a journey to Markarth.”

 

“To the mines, no doubt.” The man named Dameron uttered with disgust, but he looked at the Jarl apologetically.

 

“Maybe, sir.” Finn meekly.

 

Rey listened quietly. She knew Finn would have to tell them about her at some point and was dreading the attention it would bring her.

 

“This is the first we have heard of a visit from the Emperor. The Legion has made some puzzling movements of late, and now we know why. You did well, Finn.” Jarl Organa praised before gesturing to the girl on her right. “Now, if you’ll follow-”

 

“There’s more.” Finn interrupted, and Jarl Organa tilted her head for him to continue. He glanced at Rey. She nodded her consent, heart pounding wildly in her chest as he turned to continue. “Something occurred which may turn the tides of the war.”

 

Jarl Organa’s expression was skeptical but she nodded again for him to proceed.

 

“Dragonsreach extends its regards.”

 

Silence filled the room and Organa’s mouth dropped open. Commander Dameron simply stared at Finn.

 

“What?”

 

“Jarl Holdo is open to friendship with Windhelm.” Finn grinned. Rey could feel the excitement in the air of the hall. Jarl Organa’s deep brown eyes twinkled. There was something familiar in those eyes…

 

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Dameron queried, pragmatism overtaking his shock.

 

Finn turned to Rey. “Because of Rey.”

 

Rey felt her cheeks heat as all eyes on the dais focused on her. She had to force herself not to step behind Finn.

 

“Rey?” Jarl Organa repeated.

 

“She’s Dragonborn.” Finn announced. Neither he nor Rey were prepared for the reaction. Shouts of disbelief and so many questions began to be shot around. The room was chaotic. Instead of the excitement there was hostility.

 

“That’s impossible.” Jarl Organa said coldly. “There is only one Dragonborn.”

 

“It’s true.” Finn insisted.

 

“Then prove it.” Dameron demanded. He looked at Rey with a glare. “Shout.”

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth only to close it again. Shout? She remembered Maz mentioning something about Dragonborn being able to speak the dragon language, but she didn’t know it.

 

Something whispered in the back of her mind, a voice that wasn’t hers. She tried to shake it away but it was persistent.

 

Her silence was enough to convince Dameron.

 

“As I thought. Finn, I don’t know what this girl told you-”

 

The Word from Rey’s dream appeared in her mind and before she knew what she was doing, she spoke it aloud.

 

“ _Fus._ ”

 

Like a thunderclap her voice resonated throughout the hall and the force which emitted from her lungs pushed at the people on the dais, knocking a few of them off their feet. Rey stumbled backward with a gasp. Her entire body trembled, not with fear, but power.

 

“By the Nine.” Dameron breathed. He gaped at Rey then broke into a grin. “She’s Dragonborn.”

 

Jarl Organa slowly rose to her feet and looked imperiously upon Rey, but her expression softened almost immediately.

 

“The Divines have brought you to us, Dragonborn, but I would be remiss if I did not ask. Are you willing to join the Resistance and fight the Empire on behalf of the people of Skyrim?”

 

Doubt crossed Rey’s mind; temptation to return to Riften - while unpleasant at least it was familiar; guilt at realizing she could not keep her promise to Gianna; but she looked at the hopeful eyes in the room, at Finn’s encouraging gaze, and straightened her spine. She looked at Jarl Organa and said, firmly, “yes.”

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks at Windhelm were a storm of activity for Rey. Jarl Organa had immediately taken Rey into counsel after Rey confirmed she would join the Resistance, and they had discussed what came next. Rey had told her she planned to go to High Hrothgar, on Ahch-To Mountain. The Jarl’s reaction was carefully neutral.

 

“The Greybeards have much information that will be helpful to you,” she had said. “We will provide what you need for the journey, when you’re ready.”

 

They had discussed Rey’s motives, something Rey was grateful for because it gave her a chance to examine them herself. She had no love for the Empire, especially after the confrontation with Kylo Ren. When she said as much, Jarl Organa had saddened. Once again Rey was struck with a familiarity in the Jarl’s eyes, but the expression was gone as quickly as it appeared.

 

Both she and Leia had agreed it would be best that Rey’s decision be known only to those in the palace until Rey had a chance to visit High Hrothgar. It would do no good to have the Empire know the Resistance had their own Dragonborn before Rey was ready to fight.

 

At Finn’s urging, Rey took time to begin Magicka and weapons training. The Resistance mages were impressed by her knowledge and the armory was equally impressed by Rey’s deft swordplay. There was a galore of weapons to choose from and while Rey experimented with many different ones, she favored light swords. It was quick, efficient, and it left one hand available for spells. Her mentor, Chewie, a tall man with more hair than she had ever seen on a human being (he also had a faint wet dog scent - she hadn’t figured out why yet), had grunted in approval.

 

Finn trained with her under the approval of Poe Dameron. When he came to spar he was often accompanied by his former handler. Rose Tico was a bubbly and passionate woman, who had taken to Rey as easily as Finn had, maybe because Finn had. It was obvious that Rose and Finn had a connection that went beyond being colleagues, but neither of them had come to see it yet. In the few times they were together Rey and Poe lamented to each other how frustrating it was that Rose and Finn were so oblivious.

 

Rey excelled with Chewie’s tutelage and the Resistance mages. Her knowledge of spells exceeded far beyond what she ever imagined, and she found using her new abilities gave her a strange clarity, the exercises assigned to her disciplining her body and mind.

 

On the day before Rey was to start off for High Hrothgar, Jarl Organa came to her room and asked to speak with her. Rey had been reading the Legend of the Dragonborn, an ancient tome that was not as much of an instruction manual as she had hoped. It glorified the myth of the Dragonborn, but held no real specifics on how it all worked. She had wanted to be as prepared as possible for meeting the Greybeards but the book was disappointing and Leia’s presence much more interesting.

 

“Please, sit.” Rey offered the Jarl a chair at the table in the room at which Rey usually studied her Magicka tomes. Rey sat in the chair opposite Leia’s and folded her hands on the table.

 

“Rey.” The Jarl started quietly. “There is something you must know.”

 

Rey nodded, expecting some piece of information about the Empire’s movements on the road she and Finn would take the next day.

 

“About Kylo Ren.”

 

Rey’s mouth opened in surprise.  “Alright,” she replied slowly. “What about him?”

 

For the first time in the (albeit short) time Rey had known Leia, the Jarl looked nervous. Rey’s pulse sped up, her own anxiety flaring. Whatever the Jarl had to tell her wasn’t good news.

 

“The man who attacked you - the man known to you and the world as Kylo Ren - is my son.”

 

* * *

 

His steps echoed violently along the stone walls of Starkiller Castle, the cavernous arched hallways creating the illusion there were more than just one of him. His cape billowed out behind him as he strode into the war room, where General Tullius and Captain Phasma were already awaiting his arrival. Kylo removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm as he entered. He gave no salute to Tulius and threw Phasma a quick nod.

 

“Were you successful in retrieving the traitor?” Tulius asked in a tired voice, expecting an affirmative. Kylo winced inwardly. He would have to disappoint the general.  

 

“No.”

 

The short word caused exactly the reaction Kylo expected. Phasma stiffened to attention and Tulius looked at him in disbelief. Kylo clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead, preparing himself for the inevitable reprimand.

 

“You mean you killed him.” Tulius insisted, the alternative too bewildering.

 

“No.” Kylo repeated rigidly. “He escaped.” This was torture. He had failed, pure and simple. For the first time as a Knight of Ren, as the Emperor’s specially chosen operative. He had to reign in the stifling fear that threatened to consume him as he thought of what would happen when Snoke heard of it. His master was not kind.

 

“You failed?” Phasma exclaimed angrily and Kylo’s eyes flicked to hers. They were stormy, and her pale face was contorted in anger.

 

“I may have failed, but you had a spy in your ranks.” He spat, unwilling to take more blame than he deserved in this debacle. “How was the Resistance able to infiltrate your unit, Phasma?”

 

She was about to retort when Tulius raised his hands to stop their quarrel.

 

“Enough!” The general growled. “Phasma has already investigated her unit and dealt out punishment where it was deserved. The more pressing question is how _you_ failed.”

 

Kylo looked away in shame. “I was distracted,” he muttered reluctantly. “There was someone with him. A girl.”

 

Tulius’ eyes narrowed. “A girl?”

 

“She…” Kylo huffed, frustrated. They wouldn’t believe him but he had to tell them. “She’s Dragonborn.” He wouldn't dare go into how he knew, as Tulius would probably fear for Kylo's sanity, but he didn't ask and for that Kylo was grateful. However, the incredulous look Tulius gave him was almost worse. 

 

Phasma, stunned into silence for a few moments, burst out laughing scornfully. “That’s your excuse? That’s impossible, Ren, and you know it. I never thought you a liar.” She sneered at him.

 

“It’s the truth!” He did not blame her for doubting him, but he would not stand to be called a liar.

 

A chuckle from the door alerted Kylo to the last person in Tamriel he wanted to see, at that moment or any other. He held back a groan and turned on his heel to fix the newcomer with a deadly glare.

 

“Hux.” He hissed between his teeth.

 

The High Elf was leaning against the doorway of the war room, his arms crossed. His bright red hair was long enough to brush against the belt around his thin waist, the gold glittering in the candlelit room. He met Kylo’s glare with his own disdainful gaze.

 

“You expect us to believe that you failed because you think a girl is another Dragonborn, which is an impossibility?” The Elf practically snarled as he moved smoothly across the room to stand in front of Ren. He was nearly Kylo’s height, but not quite. If nothing else, Kylo still had the satisfaction of being able to physically look down on the Elf.

 

“Yes. When it’s the truth.” Kylo replied simply. “You’ve heard by now that High Hrothgar called again. It wasn’t for me.” Simply mentioning the mountain sanctuary made Kylo uncomfortable, the memories of that place stabbing at his psyche. “The Greybeards wouldn’t call for me.” He finished grimly.

 

Hux didn’t have a response to this. He knew well enough who the Greybeards were and why they would shout from the mountain, as well as why they would never call Ren. It was his duty to know as the Aldmeri Dominion’s representative in Skyrim. He did his research, often a little too well. Armitage Hux had material on every important person in Skyrim and knew how to use it against them.

 

Phasma, a Nord native to Skyrim and therefore more than familiar with its lore, grunted. She wasn’t entirely convinced, but Kylo knew she was at least willing to listen. While they clashed at times, their similar upbringings had produced mutual respect in the two, as well as a twisted sense of loyalty. They were two of only a few natives of Skyrim in the Imperial ranks. Nearly all others were from outside of the province. There had once been thousands of Skyrim troops in the Legion, but when the Rebellion began the majority defected to the Resistance. Traitors, all of them, had been Kylo’s thoughts.

 

Tulius heaved a sigh and leaned against the round table which lay in the center of the room, on top of which lay a map of Skyrim filled with flags of Imperial and known Resistance locations. “So they Resistance have their own Dragonborn.” He muttered. “This complicates things.”

 

“She won’t be a problem.” Kylo stated, his deep voice reverberating in his determination.

 

“The Resistance has her now.” Tulius stated blankly. “They'll certainly send her to High Hrothgar, and we won't be able to do anything about it.” It was a much shorter trip to Ahch-To Mountain from Windhelm than it was from Solitude. Even were it not so, the Legion could not do anything about the Greybeards. They were completely neutral and stayed out of any conflict that occurred in the lands below them. The monastery was a sacred place, so those living on the mountain and those who made the pilgrimage to High Hrothgar could not be touched, by either side. 

 

Kylo scoffed. “Then we definitely have nothing to worry about. The old fools will teach her their ways and she will remain on the mountain. She's no threat.”

 

Tulius seemed less than convinced. “We’ll see.” He murmured. “I don’t think the Emperor will share your view. We need to consider her a risk.” He contemplated silently for a moment and then seemed to remember the others were still there. “You may go,” he ordered. “Ren, get some rest. We’ll discuss this further later.”

 

The meeting ended and the people disbanded. Kylo made straight for his chambers in the castle. He threw off his armor and clothes, preferring to sleep bare, and collapsed on the bed. It was the middle of the day, but the ride from Whiterun Hold back to Solitude had been hard and fast, and exhaustion quickly overtook him.

 

The encounter with the traitor and the new Dragonborn swept through his mind as he lay in his bed, sleep beginning to fall over him. Her existence was a new curse on his already damned life. Yet when he considered how he might find her and end her he almost physically recoiled, as if the very idea was anathema to his being.

 

Perhaps there was an alternative to killing her. She was like him. The only other person who could understand his loneliness and the burden he carried as the Dragonborn. She would know it too and seek out a like mind. Perhaps, if they met again, he could persuade her to his side. He remembered how she had looked at him when the realization passed between them of what they were to each other. She wasn’t afraid, she was surprised, maybe curious.

 

He fell asleep to the memory of those gentle hazel eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a day late, but I had a little trouble editing this one. I'm excited for what's coming next, though, and I hope you lovelies reading this are too!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Finn help a girl in need on their way to High Hrothgar.

The first few hours of Rey and Finn’s journey to High Hrothgar were silent, their horses hooves and the natural sounds of surrounding wilderness the only noises on the stone road. Leia’s revelation the day before had shocked Rey but also given her new insight into the man in the mask. Leia had explained that her son, Ben Solo, had joined the Empire not long after the discovery he was Dragonborn. When the dragons returned to Skyrim 15 years earlier, Ben’s powers had manifested in a similar way as Rey’s, right after an attack on Windhelm. The Greybeards had called, so Leia and her husband, Han, had thought it wisest course to send their son to the High Hrothgar. After all, who better to train Ben than the monks renowned for their mastery of the Voice? Another benefit was that Leia’s own brother, Luke, resided on the mountain, having joined the Greybeards long ago in his own search for purpose and peace.

 

“A falling out occurred a few years later between Ben and my brother.” Leia had said quietly. “His training with the Greybeards hadn’t… hadn’t gone well. Mistakes were made.” She had looked at Rey sadly. “ _I_ made a mistake. But I don’t believe Ben is gone. I tell you this because it is inevitable you will have another encounter with my son. You needed to know who he really is.”

 

Rey’s brief encounter the man left her doubtful there was any of Ben Solo left under Kylo Ren’s mask. Yet, he had his mother’s eyes and - wishful thinking though it might be - for Leia’s sake, Rey hoped she was right in having seen some humanity under all his rage.

 

“Rey?” Finn’s gentle voice shook her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

 

Rey raised her eyes to his in surprise but nodded. “I’m fine. Just have a lot to think about. Like all of my new responsibilities.” She said with a nervous smile. Finn gave her a reassuring look.

 

“Hey. We’re in this together. I discovered you, after all.” He grinned. “You’re my responsibility and I’ll help you.”

 

“Oh, really?” Laughter bubbled up in Rey’s chest. “Then I can blame you if I make a mistake?”

 

The look he gave her made her giggle harder and immediately she felt better. She was quickly discovering Finn had an uncanny ability to lift her mood, regardless of circumstances.

 

It was with amiable conversation that they continued their journey, Rey forcing the heavier thoughts to the back of her mind. There would be time to consider those again. For now Rey was much more interested in the pleasant discussion she and Finn had fallen into. They talked of their childhoods, of their favorite hobbies (Finn enjoyed cooking, an admirer of that esteemed chef, the Gourmet). The discussion of Rey’s life was darker and at first she was reluctant to talk about it at all. She had already told him about the abuse she suffered under Unkar, but had yet to confess to her thieving and scavenging. To her relief Finn’s responses were understanding, not judgemental.

 

“That’s behind you now.” He said. “You have a destiny. Everything else has just been preparing you for this. You’re not a bad person, Rey.”

 

As the sun set the two companions looked for a place to camp. They were approaching Whiterun Hold, the winding hills of Eastmarch fading into the plains as they neared the border. They found a small glen with a clear spring and plenty of grass for the horses. The sky was clear, clearly displaying shining stars. Skyrim’s auroras undulated above the travelers, red-orange and green mixing in a celestial dance as the travelers set up camp and ate their meal. Later, as Rey lay in her bedroll, she watched the auroras waltz through the heavens. Rey had never seen anything so beautiful.

 

* * *

 

They passed Whiterun without stopping. It was a long road through the mountains and Rey preferred getting through them before night fell, especially as ominous dark clouds appeared above the mountain. She and Finn were three days into their journey and already she was tired of sitting on Falcon. She thought it was ridiculously tedious that they had to travel around the mountain in order to get to Ivarstead, the village which resided at bottom of the landform. The Greybeards couldn’t have planned a path on Whiterun’s side, too? She kept her grumbling to herself, though, knowing it would do no good to complain aloud.

 

Thankfully there had only been a couple of incidents along the road after leaving Eastmarch. An Imperial unit had passed them near Whiterun but the two had pulled the hoods of their cloaks up and hurried past them. No legionnaire noticed them. There had also been a drunkard who had tried to proposition Rey as he stumbled about the road, but he begged an apology and hurried off when she pulled out her sword.

 

Nothing cropped up as they approached the bridge into Riverwood, a mountain village whose economy depended on its single woodmill and its position in the pass between Whiterun Hold and The Rift.

 

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Rey looked up. She saw a stone edifice above them, a relic of the ancient Nords: a barrow containing the bodies of long-dead warriors. There were hundreds, possibly thousands, of barrows all over Skyrim, but none so grand as this, a fortress guarding its departed residents.

 

“Help!” A scream just ahead brought her attention back to the living. A young woman was standing the middle of the road just ahead, shouting hysterically for help. Rey and Finn shared a look and dismounted together. They rushed to the woman’s side and spoke at once.

 

“Are you alright?” Rey immediately asked.

 

“What happened?” Was Finn’s question.

 

The young woman flinched away from them and stared with wide, frightened eyes. Upon realizing they meant no harm she reached for Finn and grasped his forearms, her entire body trembling. His hands went to her waist to support her automatically, though he looked slightly uncomfortable. Rey took the opportunity to examine the girl. There was a wound on her head from which blood dripped down her temple and bruises on her neck. Her dress was ripped in certain places; Rey noted that scratches and bruises appeared there as well.

 

“T-they attacked m-me,” she was stammering, her eyes focused on Finn’s chest.

 

“Who did?” He asked gently.

 

The girl swallowed thickly. “B-bandits. They took my grandfather’s ring!” Indignation at the injustice steadied the girl’s voice.

 

“Where did they go?” Rey queried. The girl pointed up the small path to the barrow.

 

“Bleak Falls Barrow. I can’t believe it’s gone.” The girl started to sob. “That ring is all I have left of him.”

 

There was brief silence and Rey looked at Finn imploringly. He returned a puzzled expression.

 

“We’ll get it back for you.” Rey blurted.

 

“Rey!” Finn cried.

 

The two looked at each other with matching expressions of annoyance.

 

“We can’t go after bandits, Rey!” Finn exclaimed angrily.  

 

“We have to help her!” Rey retorted. She looked at the girl, who was staring at them in confusion. “Could you give us a second?” After the girl nodded Rey tugged Finn over to their horses and proceeded to have a heated argument with him. Even with her misgivings about the barrow, Rey was not going to let the bandits get away with this attack. As her final word Rey told Finn that she was going to go with or without him and he groaned, defeated.

 

“Fine.”

 

Rey nodded curtly and stalked back to the girl.

 

“We’re going to get your grandfather’s ring back.” She said as she raised her left hand. “Let me take care of you first.” The girl watched nervously as Rey cast a healing spell. The wound on the girl’s head closed and the bruises disappeared as she sighed in relief. “What’s your name?” Rey asked when she was done.

 

“Veronica.” Came the quiet reply.

 

“Do you live in Riverwood?”

 

The girl nodded.

 

“Then wait for us at home. We’ll have your ring back to you in no time. What does it look like?” After Veronica gave the description Rey and Finn climbed up the small path to the barrow. Snow began to fall around them as they approached the ruins and soon the path was covered in the soft white powder.

 

Bleak Falls Barrow was large from a distance, but truly massive up close. Grand stone staircases led up to the entrance of the barrow, the smooth granite path covered with triangular arches decorated with eagles and other beasts important to Nordic myths.

 

“I hope you’re sure about this.” Finn grumbled next to her.

 

“We took down a dragon, how hard can bandits be?” Rey responded more casually than she felt.  

 

They left their horses ground-tied at the closest staircase and slowly climbed up, drawing their weapons as they ascended. Finn had collected an iron banded shield from Chewie and gripped it tightly against his chest; his mace he held slightly aloft, ready to swing. Rey held her new light-sword in her right hand, needing her left hand free to cast spells.

 

The entrance, a grand metal door covered in more Nordic beasts, was slightly open and a soft glow emanated from inside. Rey glanced at Finn, who gave a nod, and she slowly pushed open the door. What met them was a grand, cavernous room, at the end of which was the bandit encampment. Two bedrolls lay next to a fire, on top of which sat the owners, their backs to the door. They were conversing loudly with each other, unaware of their visitors.

 

“I heard there was a dragon attack near Whiterun, and another at Kynesgrove.” One of them was saying. Rey and Finn slowly tiptoed inside, taking advantage of the distraction.

 

“Ja. That Kylo Ren is busy, to be sure.”

 

Rey stopped abruptly to listen, her heart pounding suddenly at the sound of Ren’s name. Finn, behind her, looked at her with disbelief.

 

“He can’t do anything else but kill them damn things. I hear the Imperials and the Resistance are too busy fighting the giant lizards to fight each other.”

 

That explained why the Legion had seemed to forget about Finn. Her friend gestured suddenly and Rey remembered what they were doing. She looked around the room for anywhere the ring could be. There was a wooden chest near the fire but it was in direct eyeline of the bandits. She looked at Finn hopelessly. He rolled his eyes. Rey turned to glare at him and her foot hit a stone, which bounced away from her with more noise than a smell pebble had a right to make. She closed her eyes in a grimace.

 

“Hey!” The two men at the fire rose and immediately spotted the newcomers. “Who’re you?”

 

“Um,” Rey started. “We’re looking for a ring.”

 

The two bandits exchanged a look and then picked up their weapons.

“Unless you came looking for a grave, I suggest you leave.” One of them growled.

 

“Really, we just want the ring you took from the girl on the path. Give us that and we’ll go.” Rey said, as if she was speaking about exchanging supplies. Finn kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the bandits.

 

The bandits didn’t bother answering. Their patience was shorter than Rey had expected. Before she had the opportunity to raise her left hand and cast the mind-altering illusion spell she knew, the bandits had charged with a wild cry. The small space between them and Rey and Finn gave the two young people no time to think, only react.

 

Rey dodged the blow from the sword aimed at her head as Finn was forced to stumble in the opposite direction as the other bandit heaved an axe at him. Rey raised her weapon and just managed to parry the next swing, pushing back on the bandit’s sword. He took a step back to steady himself and Rey took the opportunity to fling a fire spell at him. He howled as the flames flicked his face. Rey thrust her sword at his side but he managed to recover enough to jump back, only suffering a scratch from her blade. His movement, however, afforded Rey a brief respite.

 

Pounding on wood alerted Rey to Finn’s plight. His shield was being battered by the axe the other bandit swung ruthlessly. Rey made to rush to his aid, but Finn’s Imperial training must have kicked in, because as the bandit raised his axe Finn thrust his shield into the bandit’s face, stunning him. Finn’s mace came down on the bandit’s shoulder then, the bone cracking loudly as it was crushed under the force of the blow.

 

Rey had no time to be shocked at this as yet unseen side of her friend before once again her assailant charged her. Rey rolled to the right, sweeping behind the bandit, and then swung around on her knees to slice her sword across his back. Her weapon reached its mark this time and the bandit crumpled forward with a cry, his hands reaching behind him to grope the wound.

 

She stood slowly and stared. This was the first time she had ever intentionally hurt someone, had ever drawn blood. Sickness roiled in her stomach when she saw the gore dripping from her weapon. The bandit groaned and stood but all Rey could do was watch dumbly, her sword limp in her hands. When her senses returned, time slowed. The bandit had raised his sword above his head and would have successfully cleaved her in two had her instincts not kicked in. Her right arm moved and she met resistance as her weapon slid into her enemy’s gut. They were close, inches from each other. Rey watched his eyes widen and heard his weapon drop behind him. She stumbled backward, her sword sliding out of the bandit’s body, and fell on her ass as the bandit tumbled to the ground, dead. She gripped her sword tightly even as she stared at the body, fighting for breath as she grappled with what she had done.

 

Rey didn’t know what she had expected when she had made the decision to go after the bandits. An idea she could just steal the ring without them knowing, perhaps. Or talk them into giving it back. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind she would have to fight and kill another human being. Her mind whirled with how stupid and naive she had been. She looked down at her right arm, soaked in scarlet and once again felt sick.

 

A hand on her shoulder made her jump and swing her sword up; she barely stopped herself from cutting Finn’s throat where he knelt beside her. He went very still.

 

“Rey.” His voice was calm and soothing. “It’s okay.”

 

No. No it wasn’t. But she nodded and dropped her weapon. It clattered loudly on the stone floor. She looked past Finn and saw the other bandit on the ground. His face was turned away from her, but she knew he was dead too. She looked at Finn, who gazed back at her sympathetically. He knew what she was feeling. He was a soldier.

 

“I killed him.” She whimpered.

 

“It was self-defense, Rey.”

 

“I still killed him.”

 

“To save your life,” Finn insisted. “You have to remember that. Now come on. We should get out of here.”  

 

It took a moment a few breaths but Rey managed to stand, waving off Finn’s assistance. She couldn’t allow this to break her. She picked her sword up with trembling hands and wiped it clean against one of the bedrolls before sheathing it.

 

“We have to find the ring.” She said bluntly.

 

“What?” Finn had already started for the door but Rey went in the opposite direction, toward the  chest she had noticed near the fire, next to a wide arched doorway that must have led further into the barrow. He stopped when he noticed she wasn’t behind him. “Rey?”

 

“I promised her. I can’t have this...” she gestured toward the bodies as she fiddled with the chest’s lock, “...mean nothing.”

 

Rey could hear Finn moving around behind her, his breath grunting as he hauled the bandits bodies to one side. She closed her eyes and concentrated on picking the lock, oddly grateful now for Unkar’s training. The lock opened easily under ministrations and she opened the chest. The ring, shining silver with a red gem in the center, was the first thing she saw. She picked it up and slid into her pants pocket. Finn had moved to lean against the archway after finishing with the bandits, and she joined him there to tell him they could go, but as she put her hand on his arm the words left her.

 

A rhythmic chorus came to her from inside the barrow. At once ancient and familiar. It called to her and she had to answer it. She took a tentative step through the archway to follow it but Finn’s hand was on her arm in an instant.

 

“Rey, what are you doing? We can’t go in there.” He whispered urgently. “The dead walk those halls.”

 

“Don’t you hear that?” She stared ahead, into the tunnel that led to the barrow’s inner sanctum. She didn’t see Finn’s puzzled expression.

 

“No. Hear what?”

 

“Chanting.” She shook his arm off and continued. Every instinct in her was telling her that Finn was right and they should go, but something deeper, a force she couldn’t explain, was telling her to walk further inside. It frightened her but she could not disregard it. Finn hesitated for a moment before following her. She wondered wryly to herself if he would follow her into Oblivion.

 

* * *

 

It was cold and dark in the tunnels, the chill from the outside seeping deep into the mountain. The torches Rey and Finn had taken from the bandits camp gave them little warmth and cast eerie shadows on the tunnel walls. Rey could feel the cold in her bones and was sure that no matter how cold Windhelm might get, it held no comparison to Bleak Falls Barrow. It was also a maze. The tunnels wound left and right with no markers to indicate a direction. Rey had no idea where they were going, but followed the chanting anyway. Sometimes she would lose it and they had to backtrack, fearing they had lost their way, but the sound would grow loud in her mind once more and they would continue.

 

Every now and then a noise would startle them. The faintest sound, as if something had accidentally scraped the walls. They would stop and listen, but there would be nothing. Still, they stayed alert. There were stories, told to all children as a warning not to go into the barrows, of creatures who inhabited those cold halls. Draugr, they were called, the walking corpses of long dead warriors. Finn and Rey, though well past childhood, could not help remembering those tales as they trekked deeper and deeper into the barrow. They passed through many rooms that contained the dead’s coffins. They hurried through these rooms, neither eager to spend too much time there and risk waking the dead warriors.

 

Eventually they came to a great iron door, from the other side of which came the origin of the chanting.

 

“This is it.” She said and looked for a way to open the door. The light of her torch glinted off a chain nearby and she pulled it. The door groaned and swung open, revealing a large cavern. Small waterfalls fed a stream which flowed through the room. On the far side of the stream, opposite the door, there was a stone wall, elevated slightly from the ground with stone steps. The platform upon which the wall rested held a coffin at one end, black and covered in intricate designs. Rey observed that whoever was inside must have been very powerful in life.

 

“Probably a lord or something.” Finn responded in a whisper. Even though they were alone neither one of them felt it was right to speak with a normal tone. He knelt beside the coffin to examine it further.

 

Rey hummed and turned her attention to the wall. The chanting was definitely coming from there. The wall was shaped as a crescent and Nordic runes covered its facade. There was a metal sculpture of a dragon’s head above the runes which looked down upon Rey fiercely. The dream she’d had over a week before returned to her and she recognized the wall for what it was, what instinct told her it must be. She had no idea where the information came from but knew it all the same. She slowly advanced toward the wall and the chanting became deafening. She covered her ears unconsciously but could not stop moving forward. One of the runes began to glow with a blue light and a soft wind blew which somehow originated from the wall itself. The chanting ceased and the runes stopped glowing as a single word appeared in her mind and she gasped with the sudden flood of power.  

 

_Roh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this is going up on Saturday, but I'm still counting it as a Friday post. 
> 
> Thank you, dear readers, for your lovely comments! I will be replying to them this weekend! Hope you enjoy this next update!
> 
>  
> 
> Come see me on tumblr if you want a chaotic array of fandoms on your dash. It's mostly Reylo and Star Wars right now, though.
> 
> star-toured.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Rey arrive at High Hrothgar and Rey begins her training with the Greybeards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I'm a week late and unfortunately I only have one update today! I might be able to get another one up tomorrow to make up for being behind. Hopefully.

When Finn and Rey arrived in Riverwood they were met with celebration. The girl, Veronica, had apparently told everyone in the little town about the bandits and Rey’s promise. After the two adventurers (as they were dubbed by the town’s children) appeared at the mill and handed Veronica her grandfather’s ring, they were brought before the mayor. He swore that if the two ever needed assistance in the future Riverwood was at their disposal. It was the kind of offer Rey doubted would ever be fulfilled but a nice gesture nonetheless. 

 

Rey and Finn were sent on their way later that day with fresh supplies. Rey didn’t feel they could stay the night, an urgency setting into her bones. They needed to get through the mountain pass before dark in order to reach Ivarstead at dawn. Finn followed her lead, though she knew he was confused and a little disappointed by her hurry (free mead had been offered in the tavern if they stayed the night). She couldn’t explain it and he didn’t ask, only trusted her judgement. Rey had no idea what she had done to earn such loyalty, but knew she would never be able to live up to it. 

 

So it was without anymore incidents that the two came upon the valley in which Ivarstead rested. The sky glowed a light pink as the sun began its daily ascent and lit Ivarstead in a soft, early morning glow. The tiny village only existed to serve the hermits on the mountain and those who journeyed to climb the famous seven-thousand steps to High Hrothgar. It was a pilgrimage made by many but accomplished by few. 

 

“Are there really seven  _ thousand  _ steps?” Finn exclaimed as he stared at the first of said steps. 

 

Rey nodded wearily. “According to the innkeeper.” 

 

“We’re not gonna make it. Rey, I’ll die.” Finn looked at her desperately. 

 

“This from an Imperial?” Rey cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve surely marched more than seven thousand steps.” 

 

He groaned. “Not up a mountain! I don’t suppose you know any spells that could get us there without walking?” He asked her hopefully. “Some kind of fast-travel?”

 

“No. That’s ridiculous. Now up you go.” She pushed him onto the first step, laughing as his body went limp and he fell back into her arms. “Come on, you coward!”

 

He chuckled but as he straightened gave her a serious look. “If I do die up there, I’m coming back to haunt you as a draugr.” Rey rolled her eyes and started up the steep path. He followed with a cheerful grin, unable to keep the serious facade up. 

 

* * *

 

Rey would have to apologize to Finn. The climb was ridiculous. Not only were there far too many steps, but it got progressively colder and windy as they moved up and around the mountain. Snow billowed around them as the chill sunk into their bones, worse than Windhelm. Finn seemed to handle it better, but Rey shivered uncontrollably, even under the fur-lined cloak provided her by the Resistance. They could not reach High Hrothgar soon enough. She stubbornly refused to stop and rest when Finn suggested it. They didn’t have the time nor did she want to stop moving for fear she would freeze on the spot. 

 

Hours later she breathed a sigh of relief as the mountain monastery came into view. The stone keep rose as a bulwark against the snow and wind, nestled into the side of the mountain as an extension of the rock. There were three sets of stairs. The first staircase alighted on a small landing which held an altar laden with offerings: gold, food, trinkets of various kinds. From either side of the landing branched the other staircases - separated by an impressive tower - at the end of which were entrances to the keep. Carved into the stone above the doors were some sort of Nordic beasts, gargoyle-like in purpose.

 

Rey looked at the assortment of offerings curiously as she and Finn passed it by (choosing the left staircase) and wondered idly if they should have left something. But as she didn’t know what the offerings were for she decided not worry much about it. Finn raised his hand to knock upon one of the doors but it opened before his knuckles met the wood. 

 

An old man in grey robes and an equally grey beard stood before them.  _ They really embody their name _ , Rey thought. She raised a hand in greeting, but was at a loss as to what to say. She couldn’t think why she hadn’t thought about how to introduce herself.  

 

“Um, hello. I think you called me.” She said nervously. The old man was silent as he turned and walked into the keep.

 

“I guess we should follow him?” Finn suggested. 

 

“I guess so.” Rey huffed and walked inside. The building was dark, but surprisingly warm and Rey almost groaned in relief. There was a short hallway that flowed from the door and the old man was now at the end of it, waiting for them. The door they had come through they left open. 

 

The hallway opened up to a mid-sized foyer. A brazier sat upon a pedestal and warmed the space; Rey almost ran to the fire, desperate to heat her chilled fingers. The sun lit the area in between from an opening the ceiling, bright in the dim room. Somehow no snow found its way in. Movement from the shadows at the edge of the chamber caught Rey’s eye and only then did she notice the four other men, in identical garb to the old man who had greeted she and Finn. All wore identical silver-grey beards. Their movements were slow as they approached the center of the room, aligning themselves along the edge of the sunlight. Rey was forced into the center as the five men surrounded her, and Finn was pushed back. All wore hoods so that their eyes were hidden from view. It was eerie and Rey definitely felt uncomfortable.

 

One of the men, slightly shorter than his brethren, stepped forward into the circle of light. Rey turned to him, the hairs on her arms and neck raised in her anxiety. 

 

“Welcome, Dragonborn.” He said. His voice was cracked and hoarse, as if this was the first time he had spoken in years. Rey swallowed her nerves as she nodded.

 

“T-thank you. I’m Rey.” She didn’t know what the next step was but figured introducing herself was a way to start. “This is Finn, my friend.” Finn waved awkwardly in greeting, but none of the Greybeards even glanced his way. 

 

The man in front of her removed his hood. “I am Luke. I speak for the Greybeards. Are you come to learn the Way of the Voice?” 

 

Rey frowned. “Yes? I came because  _ you  _ called me here.” 

 

Luke raised an eyebrow and Rey regretted her rude tone. “Your possession of the Voice demands we offer our knowledge to you. You do not have to accept it.” 

 

“Sorry.” Rey responded sincerely. “I’m here to learn. Can you help me?”

 

Luke’s mouth quirked up, hinting at a smile. “Yes, young one. We can.”

 

* * *

 

There was a lot of meditating. Many hours spent simply contemplating one word in a Shout.

 

Rey had never been so bored in her life. 

 

She had been at the Greybeards’ monastery for a couple of weeks, although she couldn’t be exactly sure. The infinite snowfall, lack of activity except for her meditations, and the complete silence from the Greybeards had slowed the movement of time. If not for Luke’s occasional words and Finn’s presence Rey was certain she would have gone crazy. The Greybeards had put Finn to work as a liaison to Ivarstead. At first he had gladly accepted, but Rey watched his face fall in horror when Luke told Finn he would have to go down and up the mountain at least three times a week. She’d barely kept herself from laughing but couldn’t resist teasing him about it. 

 

When her progress on a word was satisfactory the Greybeards would take her outside and teach her a new one. They had given her the last word for Unrelenting Force (she hadn’t told them how she had learned the first one; some instinct led her to keep that secret) and a few others. She made quick progress but was not being taught the reasons for the Voice. As the days dragged on her thoughts turned to Ben Solo. He had been taught by the Greybeards, by Luke, and something had gone wrong. Her meditations became consumed by questions and she had stopped thinking about the Word of Power and was concentrating on the man in the mask.

 

It could not go on, so at the beginning of her third week with the Greybeards, while she was sitting at a window beside Luke, preparing for meditation, she decided to sate her curiosity. 

 

“Luke.”

 

“It’s time for meditation Rey.” Was his calm response. His hands were folded in front of him and his head was bowed. 

 

“Yes sir, but could I just ask one question?” She hoped he would indulge her and relieve the monotony. 

 

She heard him sigh heavily. “Yes, Rey, go ahead.” 

 

“What happened with Ben Solo?” 

 

His silence was deafening. 

 

“Luke?” Rey entreated nervously. 

 

Her teacher tilted an ear in her direction but avoided looking at her. “ _ Kylo Ren _ betrayed the Way of the Voice. My nephew felt himself too important to follow its rules.” 

 

“How?” she pushed, undeterred by the finality of his tone. “How did he betray you? Wait, nephew?” Leia hadn’t divulged that piece of information.

 

Luke kept his eyes on the stone wall in front of him. “The Way is about peace and learning. We do not use it in battle. And yes, nephew. Jarl Organa is my twin sister.”

 

Rey’s frown deepened into a scowl. She didn’t enjoy it when people kept secrets from her and Kylo Ren’s relationship to Luke seemed like an unnecessary one. She didn’t want to press further on that aspect, but made a mental note to take it up with Leia when next they met. 

 

“What about when dragons attack innocent people?” She moved the conversation back to the Voice. She couldn’t believe Luke and the Greybeards would condone doing nothing if innocents were at risk. 

 

“We understand the Dragonborn’s role in that regard and we accept it. However, the Way of the Voice forbids using it in violence against others.” Luke turned to her now. “Kylo Ren did not agree with our philosophy. I tried… we tried to explain. But he would not listen. He consistently disobeyed, using the Voice for his own gain and seeking out Words we did not condone. This is not our way. Then an emissary from the Empire arrived. The war had just started…” Luke stopped and collected himself. Rey could tell he was struggling with the memory of what happened. 

 

“The Emperor insisted,” the old man continued, “that Kylo Ren fight for the Empire against the rebels. Snoke offered him power and glory beyond what he imagined. We tried to stop him. I forbade his leaving. We argued. I was not kind and… to my great shame… I used the Voice against him. Our battle nearly undid the mountain.” Luke hung his head. “Later, I learned that he deceived and slaughtered the Blades.”

 

Rey felt sick to her stomach. “W-who are the Blades?” She whispered.

 

“Were.” Luke said grimly. “ They no longer exist. The Blades were dragon-hunters, the Dragonguard which protected Skyrim from the dragon threat for centuries before the Dragonborn existed. The Greybeards and the Blades had a tumultuous relationship, often not agreeing, but never had I desired such an end to come to them.” Luke dropped his gaze and Rey was quiet while he gathered his thoughts.

 

“On the 30th of Frostfall,” he continued, “not long after he left this sanctuary, my former student and the Emperor’s Knights of Ren murdered the Blades and killed Skyrim’s High King. Everyone was so hopeful when it was learned he was the Dragonborn. The Resistance thought he could end the war before it even truly began. But they had no idea he had already turned. The Blades considered Ren their leader after his awakening. It was easy for him to lead them into a trap. He betrayed the Way and his people. He has chosen anger and violence as his path.”

 

There was a long silence after Luke finished in which Rey struggled with what she had learned. If what Luke said was true, and she had no reason to doubt him, then Ben Solo had turned into a monster. 

 

The Way of the Voice was full of rules and while she understood Ben Solo’s frustrations it was impossible to excuse his actions. She had seen the man’s face as Kylo Ren, full of rage and hatred. If that was where abusing the Voice ended she vowed to never use it against anyone. 

 

“I won’t fail you as he did.” She stated boldly. Luke blew out a breath, of relief or resignation Rey couldn’t tell, and turned his gaze to her. 

 

“We will see.”

 

* * *

 

Her first temptation against the Way came not long after that conversation between she and Luke. Rey had decided to follow Finn down the mountain and visit Ivarstead, longing for a change of scenery and warmer air. She took her weapon with her - though practically she couldn’t think of a use for it in the peaceful town - to prevent herself from becoming too secure. After a pleasant day visiting new friends and gathering the supplies needed for the next week at High Hrothgar, she  and Finn had lunch at the inn.  Rey hadn’t realized how isolating two and half weeks on a mountain with mostly silent monks for company could be. When she mentioned this to Finn he gave her an incredulous look and laughed. 

 

“Of course it’s isolating Rey. They don’t speak and live on a frozen mountain. No one, except for yours truly, is willing to risk going up there multiple times a week. And I’m only doing it for you.” He finished his mead and set the goblet down with an emphatic thump.

 

“Need another?” The kindly woman who ran the inn approached their table and reached for Finn’s goblet. He nodded eagerly and she took it to the bar, returning in a flash. Rey admired her speed but guessed the woman needed it in her profession; cranky customers made bad business. 

 

“Any interesting news lately?” Rey asked her. Innkeepers usually kept tabs on all the news in the realm. They were more reliable usually than even a letter from the source.

 

The woman hummed and nodded her head. “Oh yes. Dragon attacks have started up again all over Skyrim. I heard even Kylo Ren can’t even keep up with ‘em. It’s gotten so bad the fighting between the Legion and the Resistance has practically stopped, though there are still skirmishes.” She tsked. “It’s too bad something like dragons is what put a stop to it.” With that she hurried off to the next customer. Rey was left feeling frustrated and angry. If her purpose was to keep Skyrim safe from the dragons then she needed to be out there, killing the beasts. Not up on some mountain meditating on how  _ not  _ to use her gifts. 

 

“Rey?” Finn brought her out of her ruminations. “Are you alright? You look upset.”

 

She was upset. Innocent people were dying because she was too busy up on some mountain learning rules and Words of Power from men who had no idea what it truly meant to use them. 

 

Kylo Ren was the only other person who did. 

 

She began to wonder if he was right, to a degree. Maybe the Greybeards were wrong to put so many rules on the Dragonborn. 

 

As she and Finn left the inn to go back up the mountain Rey’s mind swam with the different possibilities and she struggled with her next steps, more specifically, what those next steps should be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank user Amy+Pence for providing the idea of Kylo Ren's involvement with the Blades. I hope I did it justice!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kylo Ren traverses the land of Skyrim he comes face to face with a dragon unlike any he has ever fought.

Kylo awoke with a jolt and sat up. Dawn was breaking over the ridge and the fox which had awakened him was outlined in the rising sun. It squeaked at Kylo’s movement and ran off, leaving Kylo’s pack of food in disarray. 

 

Of course. 

 

It was a cold morning in the mountainous region of The Reach; the wind swept through with cruel, icy fingers, hinting at the harsh winter that was creeping ever closer.  He grunted as he kicked his bedroll off his legs, the wind slicing into his skin and freezing his blood, and got to his feet to clean up the mess. Once the food that hadn’t been nibbled on was back in the bag he looked around to check if he had forgotten anything. No. Then he could get moving.

 

For the last week and a half he’d had to survive on very little sleep, so it made no difference that he had only gotten three hours that night. Silencer, his favorite black steed, nickered, ground tied nearby, as Kylo stretched his cramped muscles before having to mount his horse again. The rocky ground was less than ideal for rest. No wonder the Forsworn - the native people of the Reach - were so feral. It was impossible to sleep well on stone.

 

By the time he had cleared up his lonely camp and mounted Silencer the sun had breached the horizon. He guided his horse slowly out of the small ridge he had camped in and back to the main road. Both of them were weary of traveling and it showed in Silencer’s slow steps and Kylo’s hunched shoulders as they plodded along. 

 

Kylo had killed a dragon in nearly every single town in the Reach ever since his failure to capture the traitor. The very day after he returned to Solitude there was a report of a dragon at - ironically - Dragonsbridge, a village that marked the border of Imperial territory and garnered its name from the stone bridge with dragons heads at either side. Kylo had rushed out and easily defeated the dragon, but not hours after had been sent off to the Reach, a slew of dragons attacking towns there, including Markarth, another Imperial stronghold and vital to the Legion in Skyrim. Over the last two weeks he had been traveling and killing dragons, totaling eight. The journey had been hard and the non-stop battle even harder.  

 

He lamented the fact he was the only person who could face a dragon alone and kill it. He paused in these bitter thoughts when he remembered that, in reality, he was not alone anymore. Novice though she was, that girl was Dragonborn. He absently wondered if they would cross paths hunting down the dragons and surprised himself by hoping they might. He grimaced and shut down that line of thought. They were enemies. If he did come across her he would have to take her prisoner or kill her.

 

There could be no other outcome.

 

* * *

 

He reached Morthal in the late afternoon. He hated the village but could not help the relief he felt at finally being close to home. He was dirty, tired, and his entire body ached. Being in swampy, foggy, miserable Morthal meant he was only an hour or two away from his bed. He urged Silencer into a trot as the bridge out of the city approached, renewed by the thought.

 

His heart sank as a roar echoed through the air. What little relief he had been feeling dissipated quickly even as he vainly hoped the noise was thunder. The telltale beat of wings and screams from within Morthal confirmed his fears. He pulled Silencer to a stop in the middle of the stone bridge with a growl of frustration.

 

“Damn dragons,” he muttered as he dismounted, “when I find whatever hell-hole they come from I’m setting it on fire and blasting the ashes into Oblivion.”

 

He removed his greatsword from its scabbard strapped to his back and swung it experimentally. As he looked up, searching for the dragon, he saw the shadow of a great beast, larger than any he had fought yet. He scowled and slapped Silencer on the rear to scare him away, Kylo’s usual habit in a dragon encounter. The horse was perhaps the only creature in the world he truly cared about; he did not want to see him torn apart by sharp teeth and claws. Silencer’s whinnying faded as he disappeared into the marshes and Kylo stalked back over the bridge to Morthal, where the dragon was hovering over the town’s main hall.

 

The great black wings of the beast flapped and created their own vortexes as fire erupted from its mouth. Kylo gripped his greatsword tightly and prepared a Shout, but as he opened his mouth he saw the ebony beast turn its head toward him and Shout, not fire, but the words for Unrelenting Force. The thunderous force of energy swept Kylo off his feet and knocked him back at least twenty feet, landing in the small river which ran through Morthal. His ears were ringing and he knew at least one rib was broken. A dragon hadn’t surprised him with Unrelenting Force in a long time; it was not commonly used by the creatures. He cursed and slowly stood, hugging his left side.

 

As his ears cleared he heard the townspeople shouting anew and looked up to see them running about in chaos as the dragon’s onslaught continued. Kylo cast a quick healing spell to treat his broken rib and ran toward the dragon. It was definitely bigger than any he had come across before. It landed, clawed feet digging into the soft ground, and whipped its tail left and right, destroying multiple buildings. Its head snaked around and snapped at the people fleeing from its maws; the unfortunates that were caught were immediately bitten in half.

 

Kylo could feel the creature’s soul as he approached, black and swirling as depths of the sea. The power emanating from the dragon bewildered Kylo - never before had he felt such energy from a dragon. It was ancient and raw, untamed and fathomless.

 

Terrifying.

 

“ _Yol Toor Shul!_ ” Kylo’s breath transformed into fire and met the glittering black chest of the beast. In the midst of the firestorm he swung his sword with cry and brought it down on the dragon’s nose, his thoughts prematurely triumphant.

 

The sword bounced off. The reverberation as the sword met with the solid mass of the dragon stunned Kylo motionless and he stared dumbly at the weapon which fell to his side. His eyes drifted up to the dragon’s, dark and furious. He rolled away from the dragon as quickly as he could, but its tail was somehow faster. Kylo felt his legs knocked out from under him, his sword thrown from his hand, and his cheek burned in pain; blood trickled down his face and into his eyes. He gulped for breath and tried a healing spell, but stopped as the dragon’s head snaked over his body.

 

It looked down at him as he lay on his back, completely at its mercy. The dragon rumbled deep in its chest and Kylo expected to die as it opened its mouth. But its thick, gore-laden teeth didn’t close around his head. Nor did it Shout and turn him to ash. No. It instead it… it…

 

It laughed at him.

 

Kylo watched, dumbfounded, as the dragon raised its head and reared on its back feet, its wings opening up behind it, their massive span greater than the width of Morthal. One of its front feet whipped forward, faster than Kylo thought a dragon its size could move, and gripped him around his waist. Kylo cried out as the dragon heaved itself into the air, its grip tight on Kylo. One of its front claws sank into his side and Kylo almost blacked out from the pain.

 

“ _I was expecting so much more from the Dragonborn, from the_ Dovahkiin _.”_

 

The claw in Kylo’s side was nearly forgotten in his shock. It could speak the Common Tongue. No other dragon had ever spoken. Its voice was deep and thunderous, rolling through its teeth like an avalanche.

 

“Impossible…” The effort to speak was too much for Kylo and he groaned and fell silent. There was no relief from the pain. Any movement only caused the dragon’s claw to dig deeper into his side; he could no longer feel the right side of his face.

 

The dragon laughed again, the twisted sound resonating through Kylo; the creature twisted its head down to peer at him. Its black eyes were voids that swallowed the light from the sun.

 

“ _Your language is so primitive, Human. It is not difficult for the_ Dovah _to learn.”_

 

“What do you want?” Kylo rasped, rage alone making it possible for him to say anything.

 

“ _Your kind destroyed my species to edge of extinction,”_ it hissed, fury lacing every word. “ _I wish to return the favor. You,_ Dovahkiin, _are an abomination, unworthy of the_ Dovahzul, _of the Voice_ . _You and the female will die by my Voice and my teeth._ ”

 

Kylo grit his teeth and glared unblinkingly at the dragon through the blood in his eyes, the only defiance he could manage. He knew very well he was going to die, in this dragon’s grip, so high in the sky they were above the clouds, but he refused to give the dragon the satisfaction of resignation.

 

It roared and raised its head. Its body protected him from the buffeting of its wings as it hovered in the air. The sun was just beginning to set, and the clouds reflected its orange brilliance.

 

“ _We shall meet again,_ Dovahkiin.”

 

At once Kylo felt great pain and great relief as it removed its claw from his side; his eyes closed and his entire body sagged. For a moment all seemed still, then he was aware of the wind.

 

He opened his eyes and saw the dragon above him now, its wings holding it aloft. Why was it above him…

 

“Talos!” He twisted around and sputtered as he sank through a cloud, crying out for the god he had forsaken long ago. Erupting from the mist he saw the earth below him, green and brown and approaching too quickly. His mind raced but was still too slow for the speed at which he was falling. Words of Power he had learned but never used popped into his mind and he quickly pooled what strength he had left to Shout.  

 

“ _Feim Zii Gron!_ ”

 

Just as his body faded into a shade-like form he met the earth. It was strange feeling. There was no thud nor did he fall through the ground in his spectral form. He just stopped. There was no pain until the Shout faded, only lasting a minute, and he returned to corporeal form. He cried out as he became aware of the wound in his side again. His breathing stuttered and he gasped as he tried to sit up to look at it. It was no use. Instead he slid a hand slowly down his side to feel at the wound; it came away warm and sticky and red. His sight began to dim as the pain overcame him. He tried a healing spell but the dragon magic rejected the attempt. Kylo went limp with a despairing groan.

 

This was how he was to die. Alone in a marsh.

 

Would anyone even know what happened to him? Would his mother grieve for him?

 

Probably not he thought bitterly.

 

The last he saw before he succumbed to the unconsciousness that heralded his journey to Oblivion was the silhouette of the dragon outlined against the setting sun.  

 

* * *

 

The first thing he became aware of was the throb in his right side. Then the sticky bandage on his face. Then the stiffness of his joints as he tried to move them. A soft reprimand and a gentle hand on his shoulder made him stop, but his left eye fluttered open to find a priestess of Kynareth above him, her gaze gentle. His right eye was unable to open, covered by a soft cloth.

 

“Dragonborn.” The priestess greeted. “Do you know where you are?” Kylo looked around, wincing at the light in the room that came from the open windows.

 

“My quarters. Starkiller Castle. Solitude.” He answered woodenly. His mouth felt like cotton, his throat drier than a dead tree. The priestess must have realized his trouble, for she immediately poured him a goblet of water and tilted it to his lips. He drank greedily and sloppily, the water spilling down his bare chest. It felt cold and tasted sweet to his parched tongue. He sank back into his pillows when he was finished and the priestess stood. “How did I get here?” He could not remember.

 

“You were brought here by Morthal’s Jarl. You’ve suffered terrible wounds.” She gestured to his face and side. He looked down and saw the cloth bandages which wrapped tightly around his chest. They were stained red where the dragon had pierced his skin.

 

“That dragon. I need to see Tullius.” He tried to sit up but groaned with the effort. He felt as if the weight of a thousand stones were laying upon his body.

 

The priestess glared at him and pressed his shoulders down. “You will rest.” She said insistently. “You are in no condition to see or speak with anyone.”

 

Kylo scowled at her as best he could with one eye. She had no idea how important it was he speak to the general but couldn’t help blaming her for her ignorance.

 

“I _will_ speak with him. MITAKA!” He shouted and the priestess admonished him. His squire would be nearby, no doubt on the other side of the door. Just as suspected, the dark-haired and fresh-faced young man immediately appeared in the room. He was pale as he looked upon his injured master. Kylo rolled his eyes but winced at the pain it caused. “Go get me Tullius. She,” he jerked his head toward the priestess, “won’t let me leave.”

 

“But…” Mitaka looked between the priestess, who was staring at his master with more anger than a person devoted to Kynareth should have, and Kylo.

 

“Go.” Kylo growled, his patience short with the urgency of his news and the pain in his body. “You useless welp, go!” Mitaka jumped and scurried out, deciding it was better to risk the wrath of Kynareth than his master.

 

Soon Tullius, to protests from the priestess, entered the room, Mitaka trailing behind him. Kylo snapped at his nurse to be quiet and in reply she turned on her heel and left, retorting that he could find someone else to change his bandages. Kylo grunted although he was a little regretful.

 

“I’m glad to see you up and spirited.” Tullius was saying, shaking Kylo back to his purpose. “We were all afraid you were already halfway to Sovengard. You’re actually very lucky. Not only are you alive but you didn’t lose the eye.” He gestured to the right side of Kylo’s face.

 

“I’m sure Hux is celebrating.” While Kylo was silently thanking the Divines for his survival, he also couldn’t help the snide remark. Tullius gave him a grim smile.

 

“Not celebrating, exactly. Even he began to be concerned after the third day, though.”

 

“It’s been three days?”

 

Tullius nodded. “Yes. You’ve been feverish and the wounds were just barely prevented from festering by the priestess you so kindly told to leave.” Kylo winced and made a mental note to apologize to her and give an offering to Kynareth. Tullius looked at him gravely. “You almost died. What happened? The men from Morthal who brought you said that a dragon had taken you.”

 

Kylo sighed, already drained and he hadn’t even begun to explain. He steeled himself the best he could and pressed into his story. When he was finished he slumped into his pillows and reached weakly for the goblet of water on the table next to his bed. Mitaka hurried forward and helped Kylo drink; it was humiliating to need the assistance but Mitaka only showed concern as he dutifully helped his master. After the goblet was placed back on the table and Mitaka had retreated to a corner Tullius allowed himself to react to Kylo’s tale.

 

“There is a dragon who has impenetrable skin and can not only Shout _you_ down, but very nearly killed you. This is very bad. Disastrous.” The old general sank into a nearby chair and placed a hand to his forehead. Kylo steeled his jaw and clenched his fists tightly. He had failed twice in as many weeks and felt it keenly.

 

Tullius raised his head and looked the young warrior. Kylo met his gaze straight on, ready to hear the rebuke he rightly deserved.

 

“But it didn’t. It didn’t even try.” Tullius murmured. Kylo scowled.

 

“It stabbed me in the side, ripped my face open, and then dropped me from a thousand feet in the air.” He deadpanned.

 

The general gave him a jaded look. “Don’t be naive, Ren. It knew you would save yourself. It could easily have killed you on the ground, but instead it told you its plans, essentially warning you.”

 

Kylo sighed wearily. “It did mention the girl.”

 

“The new Dragonborn.” Tullius rubbed his chin absently as he thought. “It wants to destroy humanity and knows the only way to do that is to kill both Dragonborn. But why not kill you, then go after the girl?”

 

Kylo shook his head slowly. “It let me get close to it. Let me Shout and swing my sword. It knew I wouldn’t be able to pierce its skin. It laughed at me. It enjoyed watching me try and fail…” Kylo snarled. “We’re its prey. And it wants its fun before killing us.” He had never felt so powerless than in the moment he was held by the dragon, knowing he could do nothing to save himself.

 

Tullius grimaced and Mitaka gasped in horror.

 

There was silence for a few moments, in which Kylo closed his eyes and tried to calm his erratic heart. How was he supposed to defeat this great beast alone? His Shouts weren’t enough to even scorch the thing and no weapon could harm it. Despair wrapped its icy grip around him.

 

“We need her.”

 

Tullius’ grim words shocked Kylo out of his anguish.

 

“Who?” He asked as if he didn’t already know and dreaded the answer.

 

“The girl. We need the other Dragonborn.”

 

“No!” Kylo insisted angrily, despite his own defeatism. “I just need a plan. We don’t need her!” There was no way he would yield or share any power with that girl. He couldn’t explain why but it terrified him to see her again. Not because he was afraid of her, on the contrary - the idea excited him.

 

Tullius stood and marched over to the bed, leaning upon the foot of it to meet eyes with Kylo.

 

“You nearly died. I thought it impossible that you could fail to kill a dragon, yet here we are. Not only that, but since you’ve been recovering more dragons have attacked. I’ve had reports of the same dragon that attacked Morthal leading others. Multiple dragons attacking one town, killing indiscriminately. Entire villages wiped out across the holds. You are not enough.”

 

His words rang harshly in the room. Kylo felt their sting in his soul. Tullius sighed heavily and hung his head. He was not unkind and when he spoke again it was gently. “You need help, Kylo. And she’s the only one who can.” He straightened up. “I’m going to send a message to the Resistance. A truce is in order.”

 

The general turned and swept out of the room, leaving Kylo to his pain and anger.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey grows impatient at High Hrothgar and has an epiphany after a battle with the goblin-like Falmer. A Resistance messenger arrives with startling news and Rey learns how deep Kylo Ren's depravity truly goes.

Rey spent another week on the mountain before she could return to Ivarstead with Finn. She had sought Luke’s guidance on what to do about the surge in dragon attacks, but his answer - she wasn’t ready, she needed more meditation - left her unsatisfied and even more frustrated. Her impatience grew with each day, her soul telling her she needed to do something, anything. Equally frustrated with her attitude, Luke had let her go back to Ivarstead, although she hadn’t really given him much of a choice. She needed to hear what was happening in Skyrim. At Finn’s next excursion down the mountain she again accompanied him. 

 

Upon alighting the last step at the base of the mountain, they were approached by the frantic mayor of the little town. 

  
“Please,” he gasped, “you must help. F-Falmer have taken up residence in the barrow.” He gestured wildly toward the mound of earth which sat in the center of Lake Geir. “They came out last night and pillaged the town.” He gripped Finn’s arm tightly. “You  _ must  _ destroy them.” 

 

It took Rey little thought before agreeing. None, in fact. This was exactly what she needed: to help someone. Finn was unhappy but went along with her to the barrow anyway. As they walked into the dark tomb, their weapons drawn, thoughts of the last time she did battle pierced the forefront of her mind and sweat trickled down her neck. She would have to kill again and even though the Falmer were twisted monsters Rey was reluctant to take another’s life. 

 

All the same she pressed into the barrow. Chewed up bones and various pieces of armor were scattered along the path, obviously left there by the Falmer. Rey had to hold back bile at the realization the bones were human. Upon seeing Finn’s drawn face she knew he had come to the same conclusion. Unpleasant as it was, it was making the thought of killing the intruders easier. 

 

The first one they came across was no challenge. Ugly and pale, goblin-like in stature with only a dark loincloth for clothing, it stood guard over the entrance to the Falmer’s new home. It had no eyes, skin covering where the sockets should be. The Falmer were a blind race, their existence cursed to darkness long ago in a war no one remembered. 

 

It hissed at them, its other senses sharpened by the generations of blindness, and raised its rusted weapon but never hit his mark, the thrust of Rey’s arm ending the goblin’s motion abruptly. The Falmer fell heavily, the clatter of its sword echoing off the stone walls of the barrow. Shrieks came from further inside, the Falmer’s clan somehow knowing the fate of their brother as it happened. 

 

“We’re in for it now.” Finn grumbled and swung his mace experimentally. He adjusted the shield on his left arm and cracked his neck, preparing for battle. Rey prepared a spell in her left hand and gripped her sword more tightly. The shrieks grew louder. Rey and Finn stepped through the entrance and into the Falmer’s camp. 

 

The battle was heavy. Five Falmer were upon Rey and Finn before either had the opportunity to assess their surroundings. It was more than Rey had expected, but all the frustration and anger that had been building for the last three weeks reached a boiling point and she released upon the Falmer. Not even the disturbingly lithe and strong goblins could stand long in the face of her magicka and the blows of her sword which swiftly followed each spell. Rey had spent her free time at the monastery sparring with Finn or by herself, to the disapproval of the Greybeards. She claimed it kept her mind and body fit for meditation, which was true, but she also wanted to be prepared for anything. Her time with Unkar had taught her that.

 

As one Falmer after another fell under her sword she realized just how high her emotions ran. Black blood spattered her cheeks. Her sword was drenched as she pulled it out of her last victim. She turned to Finn. They both breathed heavily as they rested from the onslaught. Neither were harmed, by the mercy of the Divines. Finn’s shield took the brunt of the Falmer’s hits and Rey was too quick with her magical wards for any enemy to strike her. 

 

It seemed a little too easy. 

 

Rey’s mind was pulled away from that thought when a familiar and haunting chant filtered through her mind. She sheathed her sword and touched Finn on the shoulder. 

 

“There’s a Word Wall here.” She murmured and moved deeper into the caves, leaving the carnage behind. The Greybeards had told her the name for the walls of rune-covered stone, left there ages ago, but no one knew by whom.

 

Finn was behind her the whole way. The barrow was in no way as complicated as Bleak Falls and the two soon reached the cavern in which the Word Wall rested. Rey’s elation was quickly dampened when she saw what else stood in the room. 

 

Another Falmer, larger than the others, and apparently very angry. He stood near the wall with an axe and screeched when it became aware of Rey and Finn. He must be the leader, Rey thought as she equipped her weapon again. Finn pounded his shield once with his mace. He did that sometimes when they sparred as well, a way for him to get his adrenaline up, he had told her. She kept her gaze on the Falmer and was able to dodge quickly as it shambled up to them swinging its axe, somehow knowing exactly where they were despite its blindness. Rey ducked and tumbled behind him. With a cry she swung her sword at its back, but missed it by inches as the Falmer twisted around. Finn banged his shield again to distract the Falmer from Rey. It rounded on Finn and the man was barely able to bound backwards before the Falmer’s axe buried itself deep into his chest. 

 

Rey took the opportunity to charge at the Falmer but instead of her sword meeting the back of its neck, the butt of its axe hit her in the stomach and she stumbled backwards, gasping for breath and holding her injured abdomen. More shrieks surrounded her and with dismay she realized more Falmer had appeared, seemingly from the stone itself. Finn was set upon immediately and Rey had no time to heal what she knew were broken ribs before she herself was attacked. She was pushed back, the cries of her enemies drowning out the chanting in her head. As soon as one Falmer fell to her sword another would take its place.

 

The large one watched the two humans battle for their lives, content, apparently, to watch its minions do the dirty work. Rey could all but sense the amusement it felt. She couldn’t see Finn, but heard the shuffle and thumping that was his shield as it took blow upon blow. Her own wards were starting to tear as she was pushed back, back against the Word Wall. For an instant the room turned dark and the chanting roared in her head as a new word filled her mind. The Falmer stopped their attack, afraid of the strong wind that had burst through the cavern as Rey learned another Word of Power. The respite was only seconds long, however. The Falmer renewed their onslaught and Rey acted instinctively. 

 

“ _ Yol! _ ” 

 

Fire erupted from Rey’s mouth into the crowd of Falmer. They leapt back, some burning and screeching in pain. Rey pushed off the Word Wall and with another cry twirled her weapon into her enemies, sending all of them onto the ground, dead.The Falmer attacking Finn scattered, afraid of this new development. The large one shrieked and stomped angrily. It swung the axe wildly above it, rage stirring the goblin into a frenzy, but Rey knew now what she had to do. 

 

“ _ Fus Roh Dah! _ ” 

 

The Falmer was thrown against the wall on the opposite side of the room with the full power of Rey’s Shout, her voice shaking the cavern and ground beneath them. With a sickening crack its back met the stone and broke, the limp body falling heavily to the ground. 

 

Rey stood breathing heavily. The fury and adrenaline which had given her energy faded and she was left with the pain of her injuries and the exhaustion that came with using wards nonstop, but what brought her to her knees was the effort it had taken her to use the full force of a Shout. She had never used all three words of a Shout before.

 

Finn scrambled over to her and caught her before she fell onto her sword. “Rey! Rey, that was amazing! Are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” she gasped. “I’ll be fine.” She shuddered and clung to Finn while she summoned the strength to move. With her friend’s help she managed to stand. 

 

Anger lit inside her anew as Finn helped her out of the barrow. In all her meditations and the quiet contemplation of the Words of Power, the Greybeards had not prepared her for what would happen should she use all three words of a Shout. They were not training her to control the drain on her body it caused or what caused it. It would take more than sitting and thinking about the Words to do that. She needed to  _ use _ them. 

 

Again an understanding Kylo Ren’s frustration flowed over her, but it did not trouble her this time. The Greybeards were not Dragonborn. They could not comprehend the burden that came with that title. 

 

As Rey and Finn emerged from the barrow she felt a difference in the air, not just due to the changing seasons. She appreciated all the Greybeards and Luke had done, but they were not enough. She needed more. The soul that made her the Dragonborn yearned to be used, like a muscle that was on the verge of atrophy. 

 

Opportunity would come in the most unexpected of ways. 

 

* * *

 

A Resistance messenger met Rey and Finn as they hobbled into Ivarstead. Rey still needed Finn’s assistance to walk, her strength not completely returned to her. She was starving as well, not just for food, though she could do with a meat pie. No, this was a deeper gnaw.

 

“Hail, Dragonborn!” The young Resistance soldier greeted and Rey grimaced at the salute. He looked at her in awe even as he handed her a somewhat crumpled note. “I bring a message from Commander Dameron, Dragonborn.”

 

“Anything for me?” Finn quipped. The messenger started and looked at Finn in surprise. 

 

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t see you there. Nothing, sir.”

 

Rey looked down at where Finn’s arm was hooked around her waist supporting her then back at the messenger in disbelief. She didn’t know blind men were allowed in the army. 

 

The messenger looked properly cowed by their expressions and shuffled his feet. “Um. Do you have a reply, Dragonborn?”

 

“Oh.” Rey looked at the scroll and opened it. “Just a moment, please.” 

 

_ Dragonborn,  _

 

_ We have received a missive from the Legion. They call for a truce. The dragon threat has grown too great for them and, in honesty, for us as well. General Tulius in Solitude has requested our cooperation and the Resistance has decided to take up his offer.  _

 

_ Rey, this is a chance not to be missed. They are desperate and you are in a special position to not only rid Skyrim once and for all of these cursed dragons, but you could also gain vital intelligence on the Imperials. Of course Tulius will know you might be doing so. It will be dangerous. They might kill us rather than keep their word, but Leia believes this might be our chance to end this war.  _

 

_ This messenger is also carrying Tulius’ message. It has all the details you may need. _

 

_ I hope to see you in Whiterun. _

 

_ Commander Dameron _

 

Rey blew out the breath she had been holding and her eyes drifted to the messenger, who stood waiting for her reply. She didn’t need to think about it or see Tulius’ note. 

 

“Tell Commander Dameron I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

Finn argued with her late into the night. They were staying at the inn while Rey gathered her strength to go back up the mountain. While they ate in the main hall Rey let him read the Resistance’s message while she looked over General Tulius’. It didn’t have much but a terse request for a temporary truce and a meeting with Resistance leaders in Whiterun on neutral ground. He also noted that Rey be there - “the Resistance’s Dragonborn warrior”. Seeing the words on paper sent a chill up her spine. So much rested on that one word.

 

Finn, as soon as he was finished, let her know exactly what he thought in very few words. 

 

“It’s mammoth dung.” He snorted. “Obviously a trap. I can’t believe Dameron would believe this.” He tossed the Resistance letter down angrily. “You can’t go.”

“I’m going, Finn.” Rey replied patiently. “It’s a chance to end the war, perhaps peacefully.”

 

“They’re lying! If you go to that meeting, they will  _ kill _ you.” Others in the inn turned to stare and Finn leaned forward, his voice lower but just as intense. “ _ Ren _ will kill you. He probably can’t stand there’s another Dragonborn. You’re a threat.”

 

Rey recalled their encounter with Kylo Ren at the river and shook her head. “I don’t think so. In any case, it would be foolish to kill me if the dragon attacks are rising. Even someone as powerful as Kylo Ren wouldn’t be able to handle two at a time, or more, on his own.” 

 

Finn rolled his eyes. “Then they’ll try to turn you to their side. Brainwash you.” Rey shot him a disappointed look and he mumbled an apology. “Fine, that might not happen, but they could throw you in the prison mine at Markarth. What good would you be to the Resistance stuck underground?”   
  


“Finn.” Rey sighed. “I’m doing it. It’s better than what I’m doing here. The Greybeards teaching only goes so far and frankly it’s stifling. Besides, I’ve already broken one of their rules. I used a Shout on something other than a dragon.” She downed her mead and wiped her mouth with her shirtsleeve. “After all this, with them, I almost understand Kylo Ren a little.”

 

Her companion’s eyes widened in horror. “Rey!” 

 

“I didn’t say I approved!” Rey exclaimed defensively. “But it’s hard being with them. It’s like there’s a fire inside me, Finn.” She looked away as she tried to explain. “And the Greybeards - Luke especially - are so afraid of it. I  _ know  _ they want to snuff it out. They don’t want to teach me to control it. They want me to kill it, to never use it.” Rey lifted her sad gaze to Finn. “It won’t die. It’s a part of my soul. It  _ is _ my soul. That’s something no one can change. I appreciate all they’ve done, it has helped a little, but I can’t stay. They can’t give me what I really need. I need… something else.”

 

“What are you saying, Rey?” Finn was so quiet she knew he was already aware of what she was implicating. She pressed her lips together before answering. 

 

“This might be an opportunity for more than just spying on the Resistance. Maybe I can learn something from...  from  _ him _ .” 

 

“I knew it.” Finn slapped the table and leaned back in his chair with a disapproving shake of his head. “No, Rey. No. You can’t learn anything from him. The man is evil.” 

 

“I don’t think that’s true, Finn. Remember the river? I thought I saw… maybe I felt it, I’m not sure. But I think there’s a little bit of Ben Solo still there. I know he helped kill the Blades, but I can’t shake this sense there’s more to the story.” She looked at him helplessly, unable to fully explain. She had told him Kylo Ren’s real identity on the way to Ivarstead from Windhelm and repeated the tale of the Blades after Luke had told her. Neither story appeared to be a secret and she felt Finn had a right to know. Kylo Ren had tried to kill him, after all. 

 

Finn laughed coarsely, surprising Rey. “What?” she asked, offended. 

 

“Ben Solo is gone, Rey.” Finn looked like he was sorry, but for what Rey wasn’t sure. “I did some research while we’ve been here. I thought there had to be more so I contacted the Resistance. Poe wrote me back. I learned what Kylo Ren really is. How far he went for the Empire.”

 

She swallowed, her throat dry. Why was did she feel nervous? “What did you learn?” 

 

Finn dropped his eyes to the table. “He didn’t just betray the Resistance, Rey. He betrayed his own family.”

 

Rey was too stunned to and Finn continued at her silence. 

 

“He sent his own father to the Sidious Mines at Markarth.” He finally looked at Rey. “He sentenced _his father_ _to_ _death_ for smuggling supplies to the Resistance.”

 

A shiver went down Rey’s spine and nausea roiled her stomach as her brain saturated Finn’s revelation. 

 

Like smoke any thought about Ben Solo still existing behind Kylo Ren’s mask disappeared. Leia hadn’t told her about Ren’s father. The look Poe Dameron had given the Jarl at Windhelm made sense now. Many things made sense. Luke’s anger and hurt. Leia’s displaced hope. 

 

Why hadn’t they told Rey? Didn’t she deserve to know who she was up against? 

 

“What was his name?” She asked quietly, her eyes focused on the table. “His father?” 

 

“Han Solo.” 

 

Rey nodded. The mines at Markarth were a cemetery; those who were sent there were never seen again. By sentencing his father there Kylo Ren might as well have thrust his own sword through the man. He not only slaughtered innocent people but destroyed his own family, something Rey could not comprehend nor forgive. He had a family, a mother and father, who gave him everything, and he threw it all away. They loved him and he abandoned them.

 

But the revelation only charged her determination to agree to the truce. Her mind was made up. 

 

“I’m going, Finn.” She raised her hand to silence his protest. “I won’t trust Kylo Ren. I won’t even talk to him unless absolutely necessary. But I have to go for the Resistance. They need a Dragonborn on their side.”

 

And, if she had the chance, she would send Kylo Ren into Oblivion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to Rey and Kylo Ren's first *official* meeting. I'm excited.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dragonborn meet and a truce is made.

Kylo tried again and again to change Tulius’ mind about the truce with the Resistance and found an unexpected ally in Hux. The Elf was outspoken about Tulius’ plan and while he poked barbs into Kylo every chance he got their goal was the same.

 

Despite their combined efforts Tulius sent the message. Kylo’s protests were countered with a pointed look at his injuries, which ate at Kylo’s pride like acid. He would never live his failure down.

 

Hux was won over by Tulius’ suggesting that the new Dragonborn could be persuaded to join the Legion (an idea Kylo suspected Tulius offered only as a concession to the Elf’s gripes). As a devout supporter of Snoke and the Empire Hux no doubt was fully convinced an effort to sway the girl would be successful. Even if it were, he remarked, Kylo could just kill her - a thought which immediately made Kylo bristle, though he knew not why.

 

Tulius borrowed Falk Firebeard from the Jarl Elisif’s cabinet as the Imperial ambassador. Elisif, Solitude’s jarl in the wake of her husband’s death, was a stout supporter of the Empire and relished any opportunity to prove her loyalty. Falk Firebeard was her most trusted advisor as well as steward of the city and while she gave him to the Legion with no complaint his temporary loss would be sorely felt. Kylo had not had much interaction with the man but in his few, brief meetings with Firebeard in the company of Tulius the steward had been patient and attentive. He would do well as the Imperial negotiator.

 

The decision was made that Kylo would accompany Firebeard to Whiterun as one of the important parties involved in the official truce. He warned Tulius of his first interaction with the girl, that - if she were there - she might be less inclined to agree to any truce with him there, but the general thought differently.

 

In between preparing for the negotiations Kylo spent his free time at the temple of Kynareth, under the healing care of her priestesses. With their help he managed to stand without pain and wield his sword with no trouble. Though the priestesses did their best, no amount of magic erased the scar that traversed his face or the expunge the blot in his side. Whatever singular magic the dragon possessed had etched the marks so deep into Kylo’s flesh that his countenance was forever changed. But he was able to travel and fight; that’s what mattered. He was released from the temple with confidence by the priestesses, who he made sure to thank before leaving.

 

Whiterun was a four day ride from Solitude. Kylo and Firebeard arrived early in the morning on the day of the meeting and immediately went to greet Jarl Holdo at Dragonsreach. There was a mix of curious and disdainful looks as the two ambassadors strode through the town. Kylo kept his eyes on the path before him. He felt a curious mix of regret and pride that his presence incurred such reactions. He pushed the emotions down. The people of Skyrim should fear him. He was the Emperor’s agent, the Dragonborn. Destiny favored him. Skyrim belonged to the Empire and he would stop at nothing to quash any who thought differently.

 

Including _her_.

 

Jarl Holdo greeted them cordially and brought them to her private office, where the meeting would take place. Waiting there were her private guard and a man with a messy mop of black curls and a hostile expression. Upon his dusky orange cloak was pinned the symbol of the Resistance.

 

There was no sign of the girl.

 

If by day’s end she was not there then the answer would be clear: Skyrim would be bathed in fire and blood. Kylo could not hope to fight the dragons alone, especially not the one which had nearly killed him, and the Resistance and Legion would continue to hopelessly leak resources as they battled each other and the dragons.

 

But as the group stared menacingly at each other, Kylo felt a prickle on the back of his neck and turned just in time for the door to Holdo’s office open.

 

The Dragonborn had arrived.

 

* * *

 

Rey awoke in the middle of the night with a strangled cry, clutching her abdomen and face. Never in her life had she felt such pain and terror. With shaking hands she looked down at her side and saw… nothing. No blood, no pierced skin. A deep sob shook her body and she buried her face in her hands. The dream had been so vivid, so real she had felt every moment as if she were living it. The dragon lifting her in the air, whipping its tail across her face, stabbing her side… and the drop to ground. Pure terror spread through her as she saw the ground race up to meet her.

 

She lay back on her bed, tears rolling down her face. It hadn’t been real, but instinct told her it was to someone. She didn’t know what these visions meant or why they were happening. She only hoped one day it would stop.

 

The next morning forced her to push the her dream out of her mind, too busy to think anymore about it. Finn had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to let her go alone and instead head back to Windhelm. Thankfully he understood that arriving at Whiterun with a traitor to the Empire would probably not aid negotiations.

 

“Be careful Rey,” he told her. “I… come back.” His eyes were so forlorn they tore into Rey’s heart and she pulled Finn into a tight hug, whispering a promise that she would return into his ear. They held each other for a few moments, neither willing to let the other go. Only leaving Gianna had been this hard, but looking back on that moment Rey realized that goodbye had been just as necessary.

 

After their goodbyes Finn started on the road back to Windhelm. No longer needed at Ivarstead he would return to the Resistance and help them in any way he could. Rey returned to High Hrothgar. She needed to tell Luke.

 

He was not pleased, to be put it lightly.

 

“This will not go the way you think.” He warned her ominously. Rey stood before him, her elk-hide bag laying at her feet, already packed.

 

“I appreciate all you have done for me, Master. But I’m doing this.” She picked up her bag and pivoted to leave.

 

“Rey!” She stopped at his plea and turned. He looked like he was struggling with his words. “Do not underestimate him.”  

 

Rey gave a nod, her expression grim. “I won’t.”

 

Her journey to Whiterun was uneventful. The few travelers she met on the way were merchants, though there were some caravans fleeing the recent dragon attacks which had destroyed their homes. She watched these groups go by with a guilty pang in her heart. She had spent too long on that mountain doing nothing.

 

She decided to travel through the night; the hold was too open for a safe camp and she could reach her destination early, perhaps before the Imperial representatives.

 

Unfortunately she fell asleep as Falcon swayed beneath her and the horse traveled well past Whiterun before Rey awoke. Two hours and a few choice curses later Rey was running up the steps to Dragonsreach - though not late she had hoped to speak with Dameron before the meeting. As it was, she was going into the conference blind as to what the Resistance would ask, both of the Empire and of her.

 

She was breathless as she followed one of Holdo’s servants up another set of stairs and to the doors of what she was told was Holdo’s office. Even before she reached those doors, Rey knew he was in there. She could feel his presence as clearly as if she saw him through the door. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as the doors opened. The first pair of eyes she saw were his, already watching the doors, and she realized he could sense her too.

 

As her eyes traveled down his face, it took everything inside her not to gasp at the new scar. It was an ugly, red jagged line that was still healing. Whatever had done that to him had spared the sight in his right eye, as it still retained the deep brown of the other, but had traveled down beneath the collar of his black armor. An urge to touch her own face in the same place swept over her and the dream from the night before flashed in her mind. A possibility so overwhelming occurred to her and she quickly looked away from Kylo, though his eyes remained on her.

 

_It can’t be_.

 

Rey felt his gaze move with her as she proceeded into the circle to stand beside Dameron, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Poe moved aside slightly to make room for her. Even the commander whispered a small greeting in her ear, her gaze automatically moved back to Ren’s, who was still watching her. Their eyes met and her soul stirred, the same fuzziness she had at their encounter near the river, but it was more clear now. A familiarity she now recognized as the soul of a Dragonborn, of the only person in the whole world who was like her. Relief washed over her; Kylo must have felt something similar because his gaze had softened from wariness to understanding.

 

As Rey found herself being drawn in by that gaze she quickly forced herself to remember what Kylo Ren did to his own father and Luke’s story of the Blades and she hardened her heart, turning a menacing upon her counterpart. It must have surprised Ren for his expression blanked, though his left eye twitched slightly, and then he lowered his eyes as he turned toward the red-bearded man to his left. Rey gloried secretly in her small victory. There would be no friendliness between the two of them, only professional civility if the Legion and Resistance successfully founded a truce.  

 

Holdo had been speaking throughout the Dragonborns interaction - which had gone unnoticed by the others; a greeting of some kind of with a hope for a successful congress.

 

“Please, sit,” she motioned to the chairs surrounding the round table they were standing at, “and we shall begin.”

 

Everyone sat in one motion, the chairs scraping in unison against the wooden floor of the room. Hold clasped her hands together on the table. Rey purposefully avoided looking at anyone but Holdo, even though she knew that Kylo Ren was once again watching her.

 

“It is Whiterun’s pleasure to hold this meeting today in the hope that it might lead to a permanent peace.” She began. “Allow me to make introductions. Commander Poe Dameron and the Dragonborn, Rey, represent the Resistance.” Poe nodded his head in acknowledgement at the Legion members but Rey kept her eyes firmly on Holdo. “For the Empire,” Holdo continued, “are Falk Firebeard, Steward of Solitude, and the Dragonborn, Kylo Ren.”

 

For their part, the Imperials were courteous, bowing their heads in turn. The room was tense, but not uncomfortably so. Yet. Rey didn’t know if Poe expected her to say anything, but she was determined to keep her mouth shut, in case she Shouted at Kylo Ren and ruined the proceedings completely.

 

“We come together today because Skyrim faces a threat bigger than the Resistance or the Empire. One that might spread beyond our borders and into Tamriel.” She looked between the four figures at her table. “Please consider that as we discuss the terms of the truce.”

 

Rey licked her lips, dry as they were from her nerves. Perhaps the stakes were higher than even she had thought. Poe lifted his head proudly.

 

“The Resistance is willing to negotiate.” He stated.

 

“As is the Legion.” Firebeard responded in kind. “General Tulius has already informed the Resistance as to his intentions. They have not changed. We would have a truce, such as we can, to end the dragon threat once and for all. It is, as Jarl Holdo has already said, a threat too great for our two sides to ignore.”

 

Poe glanced at Rey and she could see the brief flicker of surprise in his eyes. It disappeared as he turned back to Firebeard. Kylo was staring at the table and Rey dared a glance in his direction, but was forced to avert her eyes as his came up nearly the instant hers moved.

 

“The Resistance would like to know the Legion’s terms of the truce.” Poe said, his tone slightly less hostile than before. Firebeard reached into a bag that lay in front of him on the table and pulled out a scroll. He proceeded to read from it.

 

“We would have a complete ceasefire,” he began, “no exceptions, until that time the dragons have been eradicated. The Legion also suggests the Dragonborn shall work together in this effort, released temporarily from their allegiances to do so.”

 

The table was utterly silent at this disclosure. Rey saw Kylo’s head twist sharply in Firebeard’s direction. He must not have known of that stipulation. Rey, for her part, was also surprised. Such a deep concession from the Empire was, to say the least, unprecedented. Tulius must have been desperate. Firebeard frowned as he paused to read the rest of the scroll and sighed heavily when he finished. He put the paper down and faced the table with a grieved expression.

 

“I will admit I am as shocked as you all at this, however, it does not come without reason. The general has ordered me to inform you why he has made this part of his demands.” He glanced at Kylo almost apologetically before continuing. “A few weeks ago, Master Ren was very nearly killed by a dragon, a dragon so unlike the others to throw all precedences aside.”

 

Jaws around the table dropped and Rey did not stop herself this time from staring openly at Kylo. His jaw was clenched and his large frame tensed; he was nearly trembling with anger at having his near-death experience outed, obviously ashamed by the event. His left eye twitched again as he stared at the table and his jaw worked itself roughly. Rey could see he was struggling to control himself. She almost felt sorry for him. Again her vision returned to the forefront of her mind and as she thought about she realized Firebeard had just confirmed her suspicions. Kylo had been scarred by the dragon. She had seen it - experienced it.

 

“How do you mean, ‘unlike the others’?” Poe found his voice first. “I demand to see those orders.”

 

“It spoke to him.” Firebeard replied evenly and pushed the scroll across the table to Poe without protest. “It threatened Skyrim and _both_ Dragonborn.”

 

“Both?” Rey’s tone was incredulous. Kylo just barely lifted his eyes at her voice but she ignored him. “It wants to kill both of us?”

 

Holdo blew out a breath. “This is disturbing news indeed. Is this true, Master Ren?” She turned her sharp eyes on the man as he simmered beside Firebeard.

 

“It’s true.” Kylo muttered gruffly. There was a beat before he spoke again. “This dragon - wherever he came from - is ancient and out for revenge for some equally ancient misdeed.”

 

“What do you mean?” Poe did not hesitate to ask. “How do you know? How do we know all of this isn’t some clever ruse to take the Resistance’s Dragonborn captive?” He had finished reading the scroll but hadn’t let Rey look at it, refusing to meet her eye when she tried to ask for it.

 

_What’s in there I can’t see?_ She wondered before returning her attention to the conversation.

 

“That’s what it told me.” Kylo replied through his teeth, apparently resenting Poe’s interruption. “The Legion is not so desperate as to resort to such underhanded tactics.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Poe snapped angrily and Rey tensed. The meeting was turning very quickly in a bad direction.

 

“Gentlemen!” Holdo exclaimed.

 

“What my colleague means,” Firebeard interjected with an admonishing look at Kylo, “is that we are also putting ourselves at risk by coming to you. You are just as capable of taking advantage of us as we are you.” It wasn’t entirely true, but Rey saw it was enough to assuage Poe. The Resistance commander folded his arms across his chest and nodded.

 

“Alright. Perhaps we can come to a deal, then. We agree to General Tulius terms. Both Dragonborn will be free agents, unbeholden to either side and given complete immunity in our respective territories.” He said, but then leaned forward and steeled his gaze at Firebeard. “But if the Resistance hears of any - _any_ \- treachery against our Dragonborn, be sure you will feel the full swing of our wrath.”

 

Firebeard considered Poe for a moment. “You agree to _all_ the terms? That your Dragonborn shall travel to Solitude and train under Kylo Ren?”

 

A beat later and Poe nodded stiffly. “Yes.”

 

Rey’s mouth dropped open and she looked at Poe in shock. He hadn’t even tried to counter the Legion’s proposal or consult Rey with what she might be comfortable. It certainly wasn’t this. Kylo appeared just as surprised as Rey, though she didn’t spare much time on analyzing his reaction.

 

“No.” Rey exclaimed indignantly. Poe turned sharply to her.

 

“If you don’t do this, Skyrim will fall.” He stated quietly, harshly. “We can discuss this further when we are alone.” He added more gently. Rey narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t known Poe for long in Windhelm, but it wasn’t hard to tell when he scheming, if you knew what to look for.

 

“Fine.” She muttered and returned to glaring at Kylo.

 

“Not fine. I don’t agree to this.” Kylo retorted. “She’s not trustworthy. I won’t train someone I can’t trust.”

 

Rey laughed derisively, unable to catch herself. “I’m not trustworthy? You must be joking. How many people have you betrayed?” She felt Poe place a warning hand on her arm but it was too late. Kylo didn’t react, however, not violently. His face went completely blank and when next he spoke it was monotone.

 

“I doubt you have the necessary skills for me to build on. We’ll have to start from scratch, which will take too long.”

 

“You don’t know what I can do.” She felt her anger rise at her wounded pride. “I’ve got a lot of skills. I know Magicka and I am _very_ good with a sword.”

 

Kylo snorted, his expression morphing into disdain. “You do know that daggers don’t count as swords?”

 

“You’re an ass!”

 

“Please, let us be civil!” Holdo interrupted sternly.

 

“Enough! You’re doing it.” Firebeard growled at Kylo before he could come up with a retort. “It’s an order from Tulius.”

 

Kylo opened his mouth to protest again but something about Firebeard’s look made him close it. He scowled at Rey, who looked to Poe to make one last plea.

 

“I can’t-”

 

“It’s an order from the Jarl.” Poe stated coldly and Rey’s face fell in dismay. “You know what that means.”

 

Rey pressed her lips together and nodded once. She wouldn’t disappoint Leia, even if the Jarl wanted Rey to work with Leia’s treacherous son. Leia knew what she was doing and Rey trusted her.

 

“Alright. I agree.” She conceded quietly. Kylo had watched the exchange with interest, Rey knew he couldn’t hear them, and seemed surprised by Rey’s sudden assent.

 

“Ren.” Firebeard nudged Kylo with his velvet-sleeved elbow.

 

“I agree as well.” Kylo muttered dismally.

 

“Then we have struck an accord!” Holdo exclaimed happily. Rey and Kylo looked at the Jarl with matching expressions of disdain. “Now, let us mete out the finer details.”

 

The rest of the meeting flew by quickly once the hard decisions were made. The two Dragonborn were silent as the others discussed what the next steps were. Rey didn’t care to listen. It didn’t matter.

 

She felt like the Resistance was giving the Legion everything. She knew the threat was great, but surely not so great as to acquiesce to the Imperials’ every whim? Poe must have a good reason and Rey was very interested to know what it was.

 

The meeting finally ended with many of the loose ends tied up, and an official accord signed by all parties. The agreement was for Rey to leaving the next morning with the Imperials, but then she and Poe were free to talk.

 

As soon as they were alone in Poe’s room at Dragonsreach, Rey pushed Poe violently in the chest, making him stumble backwards.

 

“Ow!”

 

“What was that?” She stuttered angrily. “That wasn’t a negotiation, that was surrender! I’m not going with them. I’m not being trained by _Kylo Ren_! I don’t care if there’s a giant dragon out there! I’ll fight it on my own!”

 

Poe looked at her morosely as he rubbed his injured chest. “You’re slight but you’ve got a punch.” He sniffed. “Listen. It’s all part of the plan.”

 

“What plan?” She snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me this plan?”

 

“If you had been here earlier I could have.” Poe rebuked. Rey flushed and crossed her arms over chest defensively. “If you’ll sit down I’ll tell you now.” Poe gestured to a chair.

 

Rey crossed the room to the chair and waited expectantly, not completely cowed from her anger. “So?” She urged as Poe sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her.

 

He sighed heavily. “And Leia says I’m impatient,” he muttered. “Listen. Short answer is you’re going to spy on the Imperials. You’re going to gather intel on the Imperials - tactics, numbers, dates - and report it back to us.

 

Rey frowned. “That’s blatantly against the accord we just signed.”

 

Updates on whereabouts pertaining to the mission were permitted, but neither side was to ask or send information pertaining to any of the things Poe had said. It had been agreed that if either Rey or Kylo reported such an act then the truce would be dissolved and the offended party had the right to arrest the violator.

 

“Yes.” Poe affirmed slowly. “But very much in the Resistance’s favor. The Imperials think they have the upper hand, but in that we have the advantage. They won’t be expecting you to spy for us when you’re in their territory, depending on Leia’s good word.” He chuckled. “She’s a genius.”

 

“So, we’re lying?” Rey narrowed her eyes. That didn't seem like Leia at all. 

 

“No, we’re telling a strategic untruth.” Poe grinned but then frowned. “You don’t have a problem, do you?”

 

“N-no. I’m just surprised Leia’s plan was to lie.” Rey explained hesitantly. “Won’t the Imperials suspect I might spy on them?”

 

“Yes. But if you do everything you can to prove yourself, they’ll be more relaxed.” Poe leaned forward. “They are absolutely going to try to sway you to their side. You’re going to have to pretend to agree with them. And, since they’re definitely going to read anything you send before letting it go, we’ve developed an unbreakable code for the letters.” 

 

Even though Poe spoke with his trademark confidence,  Rey  grimaced. She wasn’t sure at all if she could pull off such a trick. She wasn’t a liar or subtle in the least. And now not only did she have to spend time with Kylo Ren, but she might have to pretend be on the same side as  the  loathsome  man . “Are you sure?” She asked plaintively. 

 

“I know you can handle this, Rey.” The commander said gently. “You’re strong. Just as strong as Kylo Ren, if not more. What’s more, the Resistance needs you. The Emperor is coming to Skyrim and we need more details. The only way to get those details is through this ‘truce’.”

 

“Right.” Rey nodded slowly as realization dawned on her. “I forgot about the Emperor. Alright. I’ll do my best.” She didn’t feel confident but tried to put on a brave face. Leia thought this was the Resistance’s best chance to learn more about their enemy, and in the course of doing that Rey could help rid Skyrim of the dragon threat. The advantages were greater than Rey’s distaste for her new allies. Her mind trailed to Finn and she grimaced at how angry he was going to be about this new development. At least she didn’t have to tell him.

 

“Good. I’m glad. We all believe in you.” Poe said honestly. Rey smiled wanly.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Now, go get some rest.” Poe put a hand her shoulder. “You’ve got a long journey ahead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. I don't think Kylo and Rey get along very well. Whatever will they do???


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey arrives in Solitude with Kylo and begins her training.

The journey to Solitude was awkward and mostly silent. None of the three travelers were pleased to be in each other’s company and every moment was torture. Firebeard took up the rear on his bay charger while the Dragonborn rode ahead. Rey knew it was because he wanted to watch them. Watch Rey. 

 

The two Dragonborn rode side by side, which made the already unbearable situation worse. Neither, however, trusted the other to be behind them; side by side was the only solution. Rey kept her eyes on the road, but every now and then she would give in to temptation and glance at the man beside her. He didn’t seem to waver, his gaze ever forward. Resentment filled her every time she gave in to the urge because he seemed to lack the same compulsion.

 

Sleeping was nearly impossible. Rey was sure that no one got even a minute of rest, much too on edge to close their eyes. Betrayal was an ever constant thought. In addition, Rey wanted to avoid another dream. If her suspicions were correct, the last thing she wanted was to see anymore of _his_ life. 

 

It was four stress-filled days later that the party arrived, tired and dirty, at Solitude. Rey, despite her exhaustion, marveled at the fortressed city, which rested on a precipice over an ocean inlet. Mountains rose up on the other side, lending the already fortified city a natural advantage. It would be nearly impossible to take it in a head- on attack. 

 

Though Solitude was on the coast and nestled against mountains like Windhelm, it was warmer than Rey had expected. She wasn’t chilled to the bone and shivering uncontrollably. Instead the weather was warm and the air filled with the scent of blue mountain flowers wafting in the ocean breeze. 

 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh when the perfumed air hit her nostrils. When she opened her eyes again she caught a flash of brown as Kylo turned his gaze from her. Goosebumps raised on her arms, but from a mixture of emotions she couldn’t decipher.

 

Rey had no time to think about the incident. They had reached the city gate and Firebeard was already dismounting his steed. Three attendants were waiting to take their horses to the stables, which they passed on the way up the path to the gate. Rey watched Kylo dismount, his long legs allowing him to simply step off his horse. Rey clenched her jaw and swung her leg around and slid off Falcon, her legs not long enough to reach the ground in one swoop. The draft horses native to Skyrim challenged her height, even though she was taller than most women. She stumbled when her feet hit the ground and heard a snort from behind her. Turning her head she saw a slight smirk on Kylo’s face. She shot him a deathly glare but he was unperturbed. Nothing short of an actual stab in the side could affect that man. 

 

Before the attendant took Falcon away Rey pressed her palm to the mare’s forehead. “Don’t worry, girl.” She murmured soothingly. The horse was nervous and Rey felt terribly guilty leaving her with strangers. 

 

“It’ll be alright. I’ll make sure you’re safe.” She turned to the attendant, who jumped slightly at the sudden attention. “Treat her well, please. She’s unused to new places and people.” The boy nodded and respectfully took the reins. Rey watched him lead Falcon away with a pang in her heart.

 

“The Empire affords the best care for its animals.” Kylo’s voice made Rey turn. He looked at her like he was bored, arms crossed over his armored chest. “You don’t need to worry about that. You should worry the old nag might drop dead on the way.” 

 

“That ‘old nag’ is a lot more steady than your idiot of a colt.” Rey snapped back. “He’s actually insane.”

 

She had seen Silencer - an odd name since the horse was anything but silent - nip temperamentally at Falcon when she got too close. The animal was just as volatile as its owner. 

 

“Tulius is waiting.” Phasma’s voice cut into the argument before Kylo could respond. Firebeard had already disappeared into the city and in his place the Imperial captain had arrived. She looked at Kylo pointedly, who took the hint and twisted away from Rey with a nettled expression. He strode through the gates into the city with Phasma close on his heels, capes billowing behind them. Rey looked after them bitterly before she followed, her shorter stature pushing her into a jog to keep up with the taller pair. 

 

Starkiller Castle loomed heavily over them as the three made their way through the commercial district of the city. The area was structured similarly to other Skyrim cities. Inn and pub on one side, shops scattered about, and a marketplace surrounding the city’s well. Opposite the marketplace were stairs that led to the castle, the Legion’s headquarters in Skyrim.

 

As Rey climbed the stairs behind her new allies a wave of nerves swept over her and she clenched her fists tightly to prevent herself from fleeing. It felt like a trap. Starkiller Castle was infamous for its impenetrability and security. The Legion did not let just anyone through its doors. 

 

Her sense of foreboding continued to rise as they entered the castle itself and she was led to General Tulius’ office, which was just an open room, a war map on the table in the center covered in flags depicting various Legion locations and some Resistance ones, like Windhelm. 

 

A man in Imperial armor with white hair and a worn face - who she assumed was the general - stood talking with an Elf, a High Elf if Rey wasn’t mistaken, with long red hair and an ugly expression on his face that was directed at her as she entered the room. The man turned when his companion’s attention wavered and he greeted the party who had entered the room.

 

“Ah! Ren, Captain Phasma. Firebeard has already informed me our treaty was accepted. Excellent.” He moved toward Rey with an extended hand. Kylo and Phasma moved aside to make room for him. Phasma meandered over to Hux’s side while Kylo stayed nearer to Rey. “I am General Tulius, commander of the Legion in Skyrim. You must be Rey.”

 

Rey glanced at the extended hand and up to Tulius’ face. She was tempted to reject his offer outright but her real mission was too important. Make them think she was friendly. So she placed her hand into Tulius’ and even managed a smile. 

 

“Yes. I’m Rey.” 

 

The rest of the meeting was a whirlwind of introductions. Tulius led her to the Elf, whose name was Hux and who Rey immediately hated. Maybe even more than she hated Kylo. 

 

The other people in the room were dignitaries and Legion captains. There were so many Rey mixedup or forgot their names as soon as they were said. After all of that she was taken into a private audience with Tulius and Hux, and although he wasn’t explicitly invited, Kylo Ren came with them. Somehow his presence made it easier to bear Hux’s. 

 

She knew Kylo, knew how far he would and could go (in addition he seemed to hate the Elf, standing and glaring at him throughout the meeting). Hux was an Altmer and wore Thalmor clothing - black robes with intricate gold designs. Instinctively she knew he was dangerous. The Thalmor were not friends to Skyrim. They served the Aldmeri Dominion and that organization was partially responsible for the war, having initiated the treaty with the Empire that outlawed many of Skyrim’s traditions. 

 

As she considered Hux, Tulius launched into the importance of the Dragonborn truce and how it could lead to better relations between the Empire and Skyrim. Maybe even end the war. Rey stayed silent but was internally screaming all the things she wanted to say aloud. How evil the Empire was, how they had mistreated the people of Skyrim. How the Legion only cared about the dragon attacks when it affected their interests. And, most of all, how they employed murderers to do their bidding. 

 

Not everything the general said was unattractive, though. Some things, like the solidarity of the Empire, the unity, how its people never starved or wanted for anything, managed to break through her emotional barriers. But, Rey reminded herself, that unity came at the cost of everything else, of freedom and rights. The Empire took the very souls of its citizens in exchange for those few comforts. Under Snoke the people lived as slaves. 

 

“Is Emperor Snoke aware of me?” Rey asked suddenly, interrupting Tulius’ lecture on the Legion’s presence. He fell silent and looked at her gravely. Rey noticed Kylo Ren stiffen where he stood, though his face remained carefully blank. Hux smirked, which irritated Rey. 

 

“Not as of yet, though I will be sending a missive to him presently, alerting him to the truce.” Tulius replied. 

 

Rey tilted her head and narrowed her eyes slightly. The Emperor hadn’t signed off on the treaty. That was interesting. 

 

“I see.” She murmured thoughtfully.

 

Tulius waited a moment to see if she had another question. “I think perhaps you should get some rest, now.” He looked between Rey and Kylo as if seeing their exhaustion for the first time. “My people have prepared a room for you, Rey.” 

 

Even though she wasn’t sure she could get any rest in that oppressive castle, Rey nodded. 

 

“Thank you.” She said politely. Tulius called for a servant, who curtsied upon entering. 

 

“Please take our guest to her quarters.” He looked at Rey. “We will discuss the details of your stay here tomorrow.” 

 

Rey frowned but only nodded in reply. She glanced at Kylo before she followed the servant out of the room. He kept his gaze stoically on Tulius. Rey sighed as she left, tired and relieved to be out of that room and away from her foul counterpart. 

 

The next day was going to be trying, but only in the sense that she didn’t know how she was going to keep up her mission. Kylo Ren’s deeds entered her mind every time she looked at him and she had to force herself not to punch him. 

 

Every time he opened his mouth made the urge harder to ignore. 

 

Spying wasn’t going to be the hard part.

 

No, the hardest aspect of her mission was pretending she didn’t want to kill Kylo Ren. 

 

* * *

 

It was difficult to stop himself from watching her leave the meeting with Tulius. He was pulled to her, almost yearning for her, and it sickened him. 

 

He knew why. He wasn’t alone anymore; but that wasn’t enough to excuse this ridiculous behavior. Stealing glances at her like he was a lovesick schoolboy? Foolishness. Especially since love wasn’t nor would ever be a part of the picture. 

 

Just desperation. 

 

As the meeting ended and the members of Tulius’ inner circle dispersed Hux approached Kylo, much to Kylo’s chagrin. The last thing he needed was that sanctimonious cowlick throwing thinly veiled insults at him. 

 

“It appears you have succeeded, Dragonborn.” The Elf purred. “Congratulations.” His smile made Kylo’s skin crawl and raised Kylo’s suspicions. Hux offering any praise voluntarily and without another agenda was as impossible as the concept of Molag Bal being merciful.

 

“What do you want Hux?” Kylo growled, in no mood to dance around the Elf’s innuendos. 

 

Hux looked surprised. “Want? Nothing but to congratulate you, my friend. To have successfully negotiated this truce and bring back the other Dragonborn must be a proud moment. One for history to remember. Especially after your recent failures.”

 

_Ah. There it is._

 

Even though Kylo knew very well Hux was only trying to irritate him, it still worked. 

 

“It’s such a wonderful thing,” Hux continued, his tone lightly contemplative, “to finally have a victory. Fifteen years of this dreadful war has taken a toll on everyone. And of course, we mustn’t forget how the dragon siege has not abated. It is not your fault that you weren’t enough.” The Elf smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure the Emperor will understand you needed the help.”

 

Kylo flexed his gloved hands and ground his jaw, willing himself not to strike Hux in Tulius’ presence. 

 

Hux apparently did not see the waning patience in the Dragonborn, or didn’t care, for he continued. 

 

“I wonder, now…” He looked at Kylo with awe. “Did the Divines send her as well? Perhaps to, well, to replace you? It is so odd for two Dragonborn to exist at one time. Something to think about.” Hux smiled politely and finally walked away, leaving Kylo in a foul mood that later would leave his room devoid of functioning furniture. 

 

He really hated that Elf.

 

* * *

 

After a - thankfully - dreamless sleep, Rey’s morning was a blur. Breakfast in bed was graciously brought to her by the girl that had shown Rey to her quarters the night before. The servant, Amelia, informed Rey that she would be acting as her personal maid as long as Rey was staying at Starkiller Castle. To say Rey was surprised and a little uncomfortable would be an understatement. She thanked Amelia but told her she didn’t need a personal servant. Amelia had eyed her dubiously. 

 

“I am here to assist you, Ms. Rey. Under General Tulius’ orders.” 

 

Unraveled that meant Amelia was spying on Rey. At least the girl was up front about it.

 

Later on was another meeting with Tulius, Kylo Ren, Phasma, Hux, and other important persons who Rey knew she had met the night before but couldn’t remember their names. She was exceedingly uncomfortable but it was necessary. Tulius officially released Ren from his Legion duties, essentially making him a free agent. It was only on paper. Rey and everyone else knew very well that Ren was still an Imperial knight and Rey an agent for the Resistance.

 

After that came the part Rey was dreading. 

 

Training with Kylo Ren. 

 

She knew it was necessary, a part of the plan. She was still a novice Dragonborn with only a few Shouts in her repertoire. She also needed more combat training, specifically against dragons. Frankly, she had been lucky the first time and even more fortunate that she hadn’t run across a dragon since, because she most likely would have died, even as the Dragonborn. 

 

When Tulius released them Rey had no idea what to do next. Kylo swept past her and into the hall, his long strides taking him halfway down the passage before he stopped and turned. Rey had stayed put, even as the others dispersed to their respective duties. He looked at her as if annoyed, which in turn irritated her. 

 

“Are you coming?” He demanded. She glared at him. 

 

“I didn’t know I was supposed to. I can’t read minds.” Her feet carried her forward as she spoke and she found herself facing him. She had to tilt her head back in order to meet his eyes. He really was ridiculously large. Rey was taller than most women yet felt absolutely minuscule next to this man. She imagined many people did. 

 

Deciding to be petulant, she added: “I don’t know why I need training anyway. I can fight.”

 

“That’s not why you’re here. You need a teacher. I can show you the ways of the Dragonborn.” Ren’s eyes bored into hers and his tone was charged. A shiver ran up Rey’s spine - she couldn’t tell if it were of trepidation or excitement. Without another word Kylo turned and started to stride down the hallway again. This time Rey followed, puzzled and wary. He was a mystery; one which would not be solved easily. 

 

* * *

 

Kylo led out her out of the city to the marshes that lined the inlet where Solitude’s harbor resided. When she realized they were going with no witnesses, she stalled. There was no way in Oblivion she was going to those isolated marshes with Kylo Ren alone. 

 

They argued. He insisted that unless she wanted to destroy the city’s walls they needed to be someplace open, with no obstructions. The Shouts were powerful and someone could inadvertently be hurt in the city. Rey, however, was indignant that they have a third party there. So Kylo grumpily ordered his squire, a shy man named Mitaka who Rey liked immediately, to accompany them. 

 

When they reached their destination, just under the shadow of the city, Mitaka took up a position where Rey was comfortable but he could also be safe from the Dragonborns’ practices. The marshes were gloomy, wet, and chilly; mudcrabs made themselves known with angry clacking and bare trees littered the soggy ground. The area was as desolate as a desert. Rey thought it intolerable, but mostly because of her companion. As they started she worked through her disdain to appreciate what he was teaching her. 

 

He taught her more Shouts but she could sense his reluctance to share his knowledge. Though loath to admit it aloud, she would have felt the same way. 

 

Kylo’s version of the Voice differed greatly from the Greybeards and if she didn’t hate him so much Rey would have thanked him, because it was exactly what she needed. 

 

There was no meditating on the Words, no contemplating their use. Rey was thrust into activating them as soon as she learned them and found that their strength was the same. Meditating on the Words did not increase their power or her understanding of them as the Greybeards claimed; with her Dragon’s soul she already possessed a deeper understanding of them than they ever could. 

 

“That’s what they can never understand.” Kylo answered when she absently remarked on the contrast, more to herself than to him. “The Greybeards are incapable of knowing the full power of the Voice. They don’t know and they can’t no matter how hard they try. Old fools.” Rey could almost feel the heat of those his words and she bristled. 

 

“At least they live by a code of honor. More than some can say.” She said tersely and took a step back, but her knees buckled and she fell on her hands. She had forgotten how draining using a full Shout could be and she had used three in a row. It appeared Kylo had as well, for he paled and stretched out a gloved hand to help her. A swift glare in his direction put him in his place and his hand retreated, though Rey didn’t miss how it flexed as it returned to his side. 

 

“Are you alright?” He bit out, standing stiffly before her.

 

Rey stood on shaky legs but nodded stubbornly as she wiped her muddied hands on her trousers. “I’m fine.” She snapped and then sighed. She needed to know why this happened or she was never going to be any use. “This has happened before when I used all three words. Why?” 

 

If she had to train with him to keep the truce than at least he could give her answers. He was the only one who might have them.

 

Kylo folded his arms over his chest, once again encased in black armor. Rey wondered idly if he ever wore anything else. “Shouts are pure energy. Since we’re not actually dragons our body feels the loss of that energy more severely.” He replied.

 

That made sense. “You don’t have a problem, though.” Rey took a deep breath to steady herself. Although still a little dizzy she didn’t want to show anymore weakness in front of Kylo than she already had. 

 

He cocked his head slightly as he watched her. “How many dragon souls have you consumed?” 

 

Rey narrowed her eyes, unsure how the question was relevant. “One.” She answered slowly.

 

Kylo grunted. “That’s why. My theory is that every dragon soul we consume gives us the energy to use stronger Shouts without the drain on the body.” 

 

“How many have you, uh, ‘consumed’.” Rey sat on the driest parcel of dirt she could find, finally giving way to the exhaustion.

 

“Over a hundred.”

 

“What?” Rey sputtered. “More than _a hundred_?” She didn’t know more than a hundred dragons existed in the first place. 

 

Kylo coughed and knelt down to be at her eye level. “I have been Dragonborn longer than you.” He pointed out. “And I wasn’t on that damned mountain for two weeks wasting precious time.” He added spitefully. 

 

Even though she felt the same way she resented him saying it. She opened her mouth to counter but snapped it shut a second later. Debating him over High Hrothgar’s usefulness would do nothing but sow discord. 

 

Instead she closed her eyes and drew in another deep breath before letting it out slowly. “Is there anything I can do in the meantime?” She asked through gritted teeth. 

 

“Lots of calories. You need to eat to replenish the lost energy. Eventually your body will get used to it.” He shrugged. 

 

She _was_ hungry. Famished, actually, even after the giant breakfast she had eaten that morning. 

 

“Here.” Rey’s eyes trailed down to Kylo’s outstretched arm and found he had shoved a honeynut treat at her. “Eat this.” 

 

Rey hesitated but her hunger won over her reluctance. She grabbed the treat and took a big bite. The caramelized nuts were crunchy and sweet and just the cure she needed. She consumed it as if she had never eaten before in her life. A snort which sounded suspiciously like a laugh brought her eyes up. Kylo had carefully schooled his features into a blank expression but she knew he had been laughing at her. 

 

“Whuf?” she mumbled, her mouth still full. She swallowed before trying again. “You’ve never seen anyone eat before?”

 

“No, no.” He paused. “I’ve just never seen a person do such a good impression of a bear.” His mouth quirked up slightly and there was mirth in his eyes. In that instant years fell off his face and Rey saw a hint of the boy he must have been before Kylo Ren. She almost smiled in return. There was a companionable silence between them as she continued to eat. When he spoke again it was hesitantly, as if he were sorry to break their brief peace. 

 

“Have the dreams started?” 

 

Rey froze mid-chew. How did he know? She swallowed and nodded. 

 

“What are they?” She asked quietly, her eyes still focused on the honeynut treat. 

 

“Memories.” He answered. Rey lifted her gaze to him as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. 

 

“Memories.” She repeated pensively. 

 

Kylo nodded as he sat down on a dry stone across from Rey and stretched out his long legs, swathed in black trousers. His booted feet nearly touched her knees where she sat cross-legged.

 

“Of other Dragonborn.” He explained. “A spiritual connection to those who came before us, ages ago. There are stranger things to have happened.” He added defensively upon seeing her startled expression. Rey shook her head. 

 

“It’s not that. But… Well, some of them…” she pressed her lips together and stared hard at him for a moment before continuing, unsure if sharing her latest dream would be wise. Nonetheless she had started to say it and he might have some insight. “I dreamt of _you_. When the giant dragon attacked you. I felt you fall through the air as if I were experiencing it myself.”

 

The change in his features told her that he had not expected that. His stare was sharp, his eyes narrowed as he studied her. 

 

“Are you sure?” He sounded like he knew he didn’t need to ask but she nodded anyway. 

 

“I felt this,” she gingerly touched the side of her face, the side Kylo was scarred on, “and this.” Rey pressed a hand to her side where she remembered the dragon sinking its claw deep into the flesh. 

 

Kylo audibly swallowed, his eyes following her hand as it moved and then came to rest in her lap. Rey shivered under his gaze, nearly feeling it burning into her skin. 

 

“What does it mean?” She whispered. He finally raised his eyes to hers; the color was somehow deeper now, and Rey knew if she wasn’t careful she could get lost in them. His voice, too, was deeper as he replied. 

 

“I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to explain in the last update, but I've changed the concept of the dreams a little bit. It's no longer a reciprocal exchange of Rey and Kylo's lives, but an inheritance, if you will, of the previous Dragonborn. Kylo has sort of 'grown' out of them but Rey, as a fledgling Dragonborn, still needs them. But, as we've seen, there's still a mystery to them even Kylo doesn't understand. So I've retrofitted the chapters in which Kylo has dreams to fit this better.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's training with Kylo commences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! I'm afraid I can't promise weekly updates anymore, but no worries! I don't think there'll be another semi-long hiatus!

The pattern the two Dragonborn fell into over the following week eased Rey into her new situation, a routine helping her acclimate to the Imperial city. Kylo had her practice Shouts in the morning, they sparred in the afternoon, and then came the research in Starkiller Castle’s archives. 

 

Training was so different with Kylo than it had been with Finn and the Resistance, and a galaxy separated his methods from the Greybeards’. For one, Kylo was much larger and stronger than Finn or any other person Rey had sparred against (excepting the Falmer in Ivarstead). 

 

His tactics were… surprising. There was an unexpected subtlety to Kylo’s feverish strategies that took Rey off guard. She had assumed his attacks would be heavy and violent, but instead he swung his broadsword swiftly and with finesse, a feat Rey hadn’t thought possible, but Kylo managed it effortlessly. Rey needed be quick on her feet and have her mind in the ring or - as she found out the first time they sparred - she would end up on her ass in two seconds. He forced her to think ahead but simultaneously told her that thinking too much was one of her problems. It was a frustrating paradox but when it came to Kylo Ren paradoxes reigned supreme.

 

One such paradox existed in the library, one Rey never imagined could exist. 

 

He loved to research. 

 

He tried to hide it, but whenever Rey interrupted his reading of a particularly interesting passage in a tome he gave her an irritated look and a curt answer. Often she heard him mumbling questions to himself about whatever he was reading as he scribbled notes in the margins. It would have been endearing in any other situation.

 

Most of their research was finding a way to kill the giant dragon, but with Rey’s revelation about her Dragonborn-induced dreams, Kylo dove into books about dreams, visions, anything that might have a clue. When she wasn’t assigned something to read by her irascible tutor Rey picked up tomes on magicka, devouring every new spell and strategy she found. 

 

It became harder and harder to remember all that he had done. Eventually Rey found herself opening up slightly, enough to exchange knowledge and certain facts about her life. When Kylo learned she had a talent for magicka he incorporated it into their sparring sessions. Rey was delighted to find she could teach _him_ something. He already had an array of spells at his disposal but was too impatient when he used them. With her guidance he restrained himself and focused, producing more powerful versions of the spells. 

 

On the eighth day of their training the delicate glass that had been constructed around their temporary truce cracked. Rey had been looking forward to their next sparring session. She had yet to best him with the sword - whenever she got close he always pulled some surprise move which ended with his sword at her neck. Obsession wasn’t a good enough word to explain her desire to turn the tables on him - she _needed_ to. 

 

They usually took a respite between Shouting and sparring so that Rey could renew her energy and prepare for the physically demanding swordplay. 

 

A missive arrived from Poe while Rey was eating alone in her room. This was the only time she ate alone during the day. In the morning she took breakfast with General Tullius and Kylo, which wasn’t unbearable. She was getting used to Kylo and Tullius had a sense of humor and humility that Rey was surprised to find in an Imperial general. The evenings were more formal - Rey had to wear a dress - and the table was surrounded by Tullius’ cabinet (including Hux) and various important people from the town.

 

Dinner would have been intolerable were it not for Kylo. After the first few disastrous evenings Kylo let it slip that he hated them as much if not more than Rey did. After that the event became bearable. The two even started up a friendly drinking game for every time Hux boasted during dinner. 

 

Neither Dragonborn could stand very well by the end of the night. 

 

That tentative bond which had formed between them snapped as Rey read Poe’s letter. It was a coded request for progress - what had she discovered about the emperor, how was the Legion preparing for his arrival, were there any new weaknesses - but Rey could only stare at the parchment blankly, at a complete loss.

 

She’d gotten so distracted she’d completely forgotten to send a coded message outlining everything she had learned so far, including the vital information on the Emperor.  She hadn’t done anything except get too friendly with Kylo Ren. 

 

The fragments of Ben Solo that she thought she saw in his warm brown eyes had, like a siren’s call, tempted her away from her mission, and she was lost in the water.

 

Self-directed disappointment and anger consumed her and she crumpled the letter up before throwing it into the fire that warmed her room from the corner fireplace.

 

Even though she resolved to be more proactive for the Resistance her bad mood did not dissipate and she found herself distracted when she met Kylo on the castle’s training grounds to spar. 

 

It was cold and the sky above threatened snow and Rey shivered through her cotton clothes. She would have preferred woolen clothing but that was not conducive to sparring. Kylo, somehow, was in short shirtsleeves as he strode around the field, swinging the dulled broadsword he used for their training experimentally in his gloved hands. 

 

Her annoyance grew at his open defiance of the weather and oxymoron of wearing gloves.

 

And it was absolutely his fault that she was distracted by his muscled arms. 

 

With a low growl she grabbed one of the dull training swords from an attendant and stalked onto the field toward her target. The attendant looked more than a little afraid and it gave her an odd feeling of satisfaction. He was her enemy and he feared her. Inciting fear in the enemy was an accomplishment. 

 

Wasn’t it?

 

As she stomped into place she felt Kylo’s eyes boring into her. 

 

“What?” she snapped, in no mood for his cryptic looks. 

 

His instant scowl almost made her feel guilty. “Nothing. Get into position.” He ordered roughly. 

 

They circled each other for a minute or two, gauging the other for any hint of strategy. Rey’s foul mood fed impatience and she rushed at him impulsively, her sword pointed at his chest. He swiftly side-stepped her attack and whirled on her, but she managed to swing her sword and hit him in the back of the knee as he turned. She could see the surprise on his face as she slid to a stop and returned to a defensive position.  

 

“I made the first hit. Aren’t you proud?” Her words dripped with a venom that surprised even her. 

 

His narrowed eyes said he was anything but. 

 

“What are you doing, Rey?” He sounded… concerned? Rey glared at him. He didn’t have a right to be concerned about her. It was his fault they were there in the first place. If he hadn’t betrayed everyone, even his own family, she wouldn’t have to spy. She wouldn’t have already failed the people who had saved her. 

 

With no warning she lifted her hand and an ice dagger spat forth. They had a mutual agreement to not bring magic into their weapons sparring and she had cruelly broken it. Kylo stumbled out of the way of the sudden attack and his enraged face - made more fierce as his scar contorted - when he turned to her again instantly filled her with dread.

 

He charged; Rey wasn’t fast enough to dodge, his long legs carrying him swiftly to her. Kylo swung his sword and brought it down toward Rey. It was all she could do to to bring her own weapon up and block the blow. She gasped as their weapons met with a clang, the old weapons shuddering with the impact. She struggled to hold him off, breathing heavily.

 

This had turned into more than a training session and he was not holding back. He pushed down on his weapon - the steel swords scraping against each other painfully - and she fell to one knee with a yelp. The look of satisfaction on his face gave her the energy enough to push him off. He stumbled back but was quick to recover.

 

As she stood she gripped the hilt of her weapon in both hands and brought it up near her face, ready to swing it high should he make the first move. They began to circle each other again, both trying to find an opening in the other. Kylo swung his sword casually as he stalked her, but his body was tense. She watched him carefully, looking for any sign he was about to attack. 

 

He stopped moving abruptly, his knees bent as he grounded his body. His left foot edged out slightly, and she knew he was preparing to spring on her. At the exact moment he did she faked left and then whipped right, swinging her blade in a downward slash against his back. The strike didn’t come close to meeting its mark. Kylo Shouted, another thing both had agreed not to do when sparring, and the Words - _Wuul Nah Kest_ \- gifted him supernatural speed. He whipped around and created a magical ward to fend off her attack. Rey’s weapon bounced and the recoil felled her. Her back met the hard ground with a thud and she gasped as her breath was knocked out of her. 

 

She heard his ponderous footsteps as he approached. Rey tried to focus her eyes as he appeared above her, long hair plastered to his face with sweat. He knelt on one knee beside her, breathing as heavily as she was. His weapon came to rest against her throat.

 

“Are you done?” He growled. 

 

Rey’s eyes burned with defiance. He would not best her. Not this day. She would have her victory against him.

 

“ _Fus!”_

 

Just one word of the Shout was enough to push Kylo away from her. The Word lifted him into the air and pushed him down again.

 

She heard him land not far from her and scrambled to her feet. Mimicking his earlier Shout she was able to speed to his side and kicked his weapon away before she stood victoriously over his prone body, feet planted firmly on either side of his torso.

 

“Yield.” As she spoke the tip of her sword met his jugular, the final word being the cold steel against his pale skin. 

 

His hesitated and she pressed her sword gently into his neck. For a moment she wondered if he was just stubborn enough to lay there forever rather than yielding but then he closed his eyes and nodded as much as he could with her sword at his throat. 

 

“I yield.” 

 

Rey blew out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding and stepped away to allow him to stand. His left eye twitched as he rose and there was a different look in his eyes, a burning, flaming intensity to his gaze that quickened Rey’s pulse. 

 

All of her frustration and anger disappeared; she saw only him - Divines, she could _feel_ him and he was three feet away from her. He took a tentative step toward her and when she remained still made the next one. Rey wasn’t sure what would have happened had he reached her, but a frantic call diverted their attention, and Kylo’s head snapped angrily toward the interruption. Once his gaze left her Rey’s body sagged, a curious mixture of disappointment and relief coursing through her.

 

“Dragonborns!” A Legion guard ran up to them and Rey forced her eyes to focus on him and not continue to stare at Kylo. “A dragon is attacking the stables!” 

 

Kylo glanced at Rey, the fire in his eyes only slightly abated. 

 

“Gear up.”

 

* * *

 

It took mere minutes for Rey and Kylo to dress in their armor and rush out of Solitude’s main gates. Rey had refused the Imperial armor the Legion prepared for her, preferring the more battered Resistance pieces. They had served her well so far. 

 

Kylo wore his black armor and donned his mask, turning him from man to monster in a heartbeat. Whatever spell he’d put her under on the training field broke once that evil mask covered his boyish features and he turned into a demon. 

 

Rey had stared at him sadly for a split second longer than she should have. He almost saw her. 

 

So important then, the moment was quickly forgotten now as Rey fielded an icy onslaught from the Blood dragon hovering above her. Her magicka strength had increased greatly in her time with the Resistance and the Legion, but she still had her limits. The ward which was protecting her from the dragon’s breath was quickly failing. 

 

Just as she felt the magicka give way a Shout from her right alerted her to Kylo’s position. He had a bow strung tightly and released it just as he Shouted the words for Dismay, which sapped the dragon’s strength. The dragon caught the arrow in the eye and, weakened by Kylo’s Shout, drifted heavily to the surface. It roared and spewed fire this time, directly at Kylo. 

 

Rey, encouraged by Kylo’s maneuver, charged forward and with all the dexterity she could muster clambered up the dragon’s neck. Surprised, the creature stopped mid-Shout and shook its head. Rey had to hold on for dear life, one hand clinging desperately to a neck spike. It wasn’t enough. She lost her grip and fell to the ground with a thud. The dragon reared up and would have come down on her had she not rolled away just in time. Kylo appeared at her side and helped her to stand and the two faced the dragon side by side, swords aloft. 

 

Its head snaked between the two of them, its slitted golden eyes narrowed angrily as it decided, Rey guessed, who to eat first. Rey looked at Kylo, who glanced back at her. An unspoken understanding swept between them and they sprang into action. 

 

Kylo dodged right and heaved a spell at the dragon to get its attention at the same time Rey moved left. The strategy worked. The dragon was distracted by Kylo and Rey was able to climb onto the roof of the stable without being noticed. At the top she quickly surveyed the battle. Kylo was slashing at the creature’s snout, easily holding off its toothy maw. She saw him glance at her and nod. Moving more swiftly than she thought herself capable Rey drew her own bow and aimed at the dragon. She remembered her first encounter with a dragon and knew precisely where to fire. 

 

When the arrow met its mark the dragon roared in pain and it ducked its head, leaving itself open to an attack from beneath by Kylo. Rey watched as her counterpart shoved his sword into the dragon’s mouth, dealing the final blow. The dragon groaned and collapsed; Kylo managed to roll away just in time to avoid being crushed. 

 

With a breath of relief Rey climbed off the stable roof and made her way to the dragon’s corpse. It had already begun to disintegrate when she reached it. Golden beams of light wove their way through the air toward Rey and Kylo as the dragon’s soul left its body, the wind ruffling their clothes. 

 

This was the second time Rey had been endowed a dragon’s soul but the rush was as intense as the first. She shuddered, her eyes closed as the fatigue from using the dragon shout earlier in the day during the disastrous training session faded. 

 

A soft sigh from nearby brought Rey’s attention to Kylo. His eyes were closed - his helmet had been discarded early in the battle - as the soft beams of light entered his body. When he opened them they fell on her. 

 

The realization came to Rey this was the first time the experience - unique to the Dragonborn - had been shared with another person. Never before in the history of Tamriel had two people experienced this at the same time, the same soul. For the briefest instant she felt an inescapable tether that existed between them. 

 

She was aware of his voice saying her name. Slowly her eyes traveled down to find his hand outstretched to her. 

 

“Don’t be afraid. I feel it too.” He spoke so gently, so soothingly Rey believed him and was relieved. The warning voice in her head which sounded a lot like Finn dulled to a mere whisper she could barely hear. 

 

As Kylo took a step toward her she almost let her own feet carry her forward to meet him, to give in to the same desire that she had been denied earlier, but as the dragon’s body collapsed into a brittle pile of bones the sensation dissipated and Rey came to herself again, her body straightening into a rod.

 

Kylo realized the change as well and instantly his outstretched hand clenched and dropped to his side; his jaw made a stilted movement, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. 

 

The dragon was dead; but something else had awakened. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey encounter yet another dragon, one Kylo is all too familiar with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii. I got a new chapter up. Yay! Hope y'all enjoy!

An awkward silence filled the short journey back to the city. Kylo usually enjoyed silence but this he found intolerable. Rey hadn’t said a word and was avoiding looking at him, leaving him to his own racing thoughts. 

 

That cursed sparring session would not leave his mind. Moments, minutes, and he was sure days after that session he would still see how her eyes burned when she bested him; oh how they had transfixed him, her victory brightening and emphasizing the green flecks within the hazel. 

 

Kylo couldn’t think of his wounded pride or consider how she had broken the rules of engagement. He had been a man enthralled, a new and frightening sensation that only Rey elicited. 

 

It had happened before, perhaps not to the same extent, yet still he had found himself fascinated by her: when they sparred he admired her determination - no matter how many times she fell she would rise and try again; it was the samewhile he coached her through new Shouts. In the library, during moments of quiet, he would sneak glances at her to see her lovely nose scrunched up in concentration, the constellation of freckles across her face scattering into new forms. 

 

He had characterized his interest as curiosity and admiration. She was a warrior, intelligent, and more powerful than she knew. 

 

But after the dragon attack, he realized his draw to her was more than admiration.

 

That morning on the field he had damned the soldier who interrupted them, certain that what had passed between he and Rey would never repeat itself, and was shocked at his own desperate desire for what had almost occurred. 

 

But the dragon attack had revealed just how deeply connected the two of them were, that it wasn’t one-sided. Rey was reticent, unwilling to see, but Kylo knew she would come around. She had to. He _needed_ her to. 

 

The sound of her voice shook him from his thoughtful stupor. He turned his head to find her looking at him expectantly; his heart drummed a faster, incoherent rhythm - just because she deigned to cast her eyes on him.

 

“Did you hear me?” 

 

Kylo shook his head, a little dazed but grateful to all the Divines that she had spoken, his fears abated that she would never do so again. 

 

“What did you say?” He was breathless, but that was easily attributed to their battle. She wouldn’t comprehend the real reason. 

 

Rey frowned and Kylo focused his eyes on the wrinkles which formed between her brows, curbing a sudden desire to kiss it away.

 

“I said I’m hungry. I’m going to the kitchens.” 

 

He then realized they had entered the city and were halfway back to Starkiller Castle, his feet carrying him automatically toward their destination. 

 

Of course she was hungry. Rey had the appetite of twenty Nords plus a few bears and she had exercised more of her power in the last couple of hours than she had at any one practice. 

 

He ran a hand over his face to rid his forehead of sweat as he nodded. Food and sleep replaced all other thoughts, giving his mind a much-needed respite from the more confusing reflections on Rey. 

 

However, as a roar which sounded too familiar echoed through the air above them, Kylo realized rest Rest would have to come later. The sound reverberated through the city’s stone walls, shaking the mountain behind them. Both he and Rey stopped short in Starkiller Castle’s courtyard and looked to the sky. 

 

“Another one?” Rey groaned. Her sword was already in her hand. So tired yet still ready for the next fight, Kylo marveled. 

 

Rey had no sooner spoken than a crack split the air and lightning struck the ground between them, sending the Dragonborn flying in opposite directions, and the soldiers passing through the courtyard fleeing. Kylo managed to rise first, hissing in pain at what must have been a dislocated shoulder, and was the first to see the black mass which hovered in the air above the castle, great leathery wings beating the violently, creating a windstorm. 

 

“ _Dovahkiin!_ ” The dragon roared. 

 

_No. We aren’t ready. She isn’t ready._

 

Kylo reached between his shoulders for his broadsword but it was missing. He looked around frantically and saw it ten feet away, loosened as he was thrown. He glanced at the dragon and back to the sword. A flicker of brown on the other side of the courtyard caught his gaze and he saw Rey laying limp against the stone wall of the keep.

 

Rage surged through his veins; all else left his mind except the instinct to protect her, to avenge her. He darted toward his weapon and rolled to pick it up just as the dragon dove toward him. 

 

Chaos reigned in the courtyard. Whatever stupor had held the Legion captive when the dragon was in the air ended as it landed, shaking the very foundations of the castle. Archers lined the parapets and towers and all fired at the dragon simultaneously at the orders shouted from their commanders. The arrows bounced off its hide and the black beast, unperturbed by the Legion’s assault, continued its menacing crawl toward Kylo. 

 

Its neck snaked out and it snapped its teeth at Kylo’s sword as he swung high, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He knew it would do no good. The sword met the dragon’s snout and bounced out of Kylo’s hand and he found himself once again facing those teeth, dripping with saliva.

 

Everything around him faded, all the noise and surroundings, as he faced Death. With a low growl its giant maw opened and Kylo closed his eyes as he prepared for the inevitable. 

 

Yet the inevitable did not come. 

 

“ _Krii Lun Aus!_ ” 

 

Kylo and the dragon both turned in the direction from which the Shout had come. 

 

A very angry Rey stood near the courtyard gate with her sword raised. Blood trickled from her temple and one hand was outstretched as she prepared a spell. 

 

Kylo shook his head in warning and thanked the Divines that Rey paid attention, lowering her hand, though he could tell she was puzzled. Magicka would do no harm to this dragon; they needed a different plan. 

 

“ _Foolish girl_. _You cannot use Marked for Death against me, against Alduin. I am the World Eater. Your meager Voice cannot harm me._ ” The dragon turned its massive body toward her. Arrows still flew through the air, barely missing the Dragonborn as they bounced off the dragon and to the ground. 

 

_Alduin. That’s its name?_ Kylo grasped onto that information, a possibly vital clue to discovering why the dragon was attacking Skyrim. If he and Rey survived. 

 

Surprise flickered over Rey’s face when the dragon spoke but she recovered more quickly than Kylo thought she would. He edged toward his sword with the dragon distracted. 

 

“I just did. And it worked. I can feel your strength ebbed.” Rey called, distracting the creature for Kylo. The dragon hissed angrily and stalked toward Rey, talons digging into and ripping up the earth. 

 

Kylo stopped. Could she really sense that? He glanced at the dragon and a stirring in his soul, a sense he hadn’t noticed before but must have always been there, told him she was right. Perhaps the two of them together could defeat the giant creature - not today, but there was hope. 

 

“ _Fus Roh Dah!_ ” Kylo forgot about his sword and focused his strength on Unrelenting Force, desiring only to drive the beast out of the city. The dragon roared as it turned its massive head toward its second assailant. Rey repeated the Shout from her side of the courtyard, following Kylo’s lead, but could only manage two of the three words. He could see from his position that her strength was dwindling, the events of the day finally taking their toll. He prayed to the Divines that she would last at least another moment, at least until he reached her. 

 

The two Dragonborn kept up their assault - Rey bravely doing what she could despite her exhaustion - on the black dragon and it looked between them in rage. With a roar it lifted itself into the air and Kylo tried one more Shout, the same Shout the dragon had hurled at them as it attacked. 

 

“ _Strun Bah Qo!_ ” 

 

Lightning rained down and struck the dragon on its side. Flame erupted from its mouth and poured down on the ground in retaliation. But as Kylo ducked the assault he noted that it was now favoring the side the lightning had hit. 

 

So it could be harmed. Alduin wasn’t invincible.

 

“ _You will kill no more of my brothers and sisters, Dovahkiin! Your death is written upon the stars in their blood._ ”

 

With that it flew away, its great wings buffeting those below it. As the atmosphere quietened Kylo looked toward Rey and found she was staring at him. Was he mistaken or could that be relief in her eyes? For him or their success? 

 

Whichever it was he couldn’t wonder long for a second later she fell to her knees, leaning heavily on her sword as she slid to the ground. Kylo did not hesitate and ran forward. He sank to his knees and reached out his arms, slipping them around her waist to support her, disregarding his own injury. Rey’s breath was labored and Kylo nearly set into a panic, readying a healing spell before she put hand on his to stop him. 

 

“That won’t work.” She gasped. “N-not the problem. I’ll be fine. Just… so tired.” She looked at him through hooded eyes. “And hungry.” 

 

He held her until she had recovered enough to stand, but she couldn’t make it to the castle without his help. She refused to be carried so he looped one of her arms around his neck and with an arm around her waist supported her to the nearest entrance. It was a little awkward as he had to kneel slightly in order to do it but it was better than nothing. 

 

As soon as they reached the door it opened and they were accosted by Mitaka. 

 

“Tullius needs to you,” the squire told them urgently. “Right now.”

 

* * *

 

To say that Tullius was angry would be an understatement. He was livid. 

 

“This dragon just attacked Skyrim’s _Imperial headquarters_. And did a damn good job of it!” He exclaimed at the Dragonborn who were both staring at the general with identical annoyed expressions. Tullius had ordered them to his office for an irate scolding they didn’t deserve.

 

Kylo wasn’t any happier. Rey needed rest and food, not Tullius shouting in her ear.

 

“At least Kylo wounded it,” Rey defended, her voice strong despite her fatigue, and Kylo glanced at her, surprised she would offer anything in his support. “That’s why it fled.” 

 

Tullius narrowed his eyes at her. “How was it wounded? Our weapons can’t cut its hide.”

 

“The magic in the Storm Call Shout.” Kylo replied and folded his arms across his chest. “Apparently only dragon magic can harm it.”

 

“Oh. Oh that’s terrific.” Tullius’ sarcastic tone belied his words. “But only so many Shouts actually cause that kind of harm and even that didn’t do much damage.”

 

“No.” Kylo conceded peevishly. “But it gives us a way. I’ll research into more Shouts. Perhaps there’s something-” 

 

“Research?” A sneering voice from the shadows of the room grated on Kylo’s ears and Hux emerged from his hiding place. “You expect to find the answer in a _book_?” 

 

Rey stiffened beside Kylo and he was once again surprised as she came to his defense. “There are many answers in those tomes, Hux.” She snarled. “Maybe if you had opened one in your life you’d know that.” 

 

That morning be damned; mouthing off at Hux was the most attractive thing Rey had ever done. 

 

The Elf took an angry step toward Rey and Kylo was well-prepared to punch him if he got any closer, a gloved hand fisting as he shifted his body slightly between Rey and Hux. He knew Rey was more than capable of taking care of herself, but Kylo’s instinct to protect her was stronger than his rationale.

 

“Enough.” Tullius growled. Everyone reluctantly returned their attention to the general. “Ren, Rey. Do what you have to do but be quick. We don’t have a lot of time.”

 

“Why is that, sir?” Kylo scowled. The dragon attacks were worse, yes, but the Resistance was under a truce as long as Alduin remained at large. There were no engagements to be concerned about.

 

Tullius glanced at Rey uncomfortably but decided to continue despite whatever reservations he held. “The Emperor is arriving soon, a matter of a few weeks. We can’t have this dragon menace around while he’s here.”

 

Kylo did not miss the way Rey’s attention focused on Tullius. Her eyes darted to Kylo and away, guilt in their hazel depths. 

 

* * *

 

Hours later, after the Dragonborn had a chance to recover from their battles, Kylo called Rey to the library. Now that they had a clue to go on they would be able to find what they needed. 

 

Whatever unease Rey had felt after the battle at the stables seemed to have flown away with Alduin. When she reached the library she settled in eagerly with Kylo, ready to get under way, armed with a nap and a full stomach. 

 

“Alduin, Alduin, Alduin.” Kylo heard her mutter under her breath as she rifled through a worn tome. They sat on the floor of the library, books and scrolls strewn about them. The torches were lit and flickering gaily against the stone but didn’t give enough light to read by, so Rey had snapped her fingers and a little bauble of light floated above their heads, illuminating their surroundings in a circle. He would always be a little envious of her magical abilities. 

 

They had been reading a long while, deep into the night, with no results. He glanced down at the book he was studying and narrowed his eyes. Nothing. “These are useless.” He shut the book with a snap and stood. “We have to go deeper.” 

 

Rey looked up at him, puzzled, those familiar lines etched into her forehead. “Deeper?”

 

“There’s another level to the library.” Kylo replied. “Where the most ancient archives are kept. We’ve looked through all of these. If there’s anything about Alduin, it might be down there.”

 

“Why didn’t you mention that a week ago?” She asked grumpily. “Might have saved us some trouble.”

 

Kylo pursed his lips, already irritated with himself for not thinking of it before. “I hadn’t thought to look there before because I thought he was just a normal dragon, not an ancient beast with a grudge.” He replied waspishly. 

 

She rose and brushed the dust off her trousers with a huff. “Alright, fine. Lead the way.”

 

The little light Rey had conjured bounced along above them as Kylo lead her between the stacks of books toward the very darkest part of the library. It was cold, but dry. The city’s librarians were as meticulous about climate control as their counterparts at the College of Winterhold, using spells and enchantments to ensure the preservation of the tomes in their care. 

 

After a minute or so of walking Kylo found what he was looking for: a wooden door that one might assume was a closet, but actually lead to the lower departments of the library; or so he had been told. Kylo tugged at the knob but didn’t budge. He expected that. It was an old door. He tried again, a little harder, but still the door did not open. Some fool had locked it. 

 

He shook the handle angrily, irritated there was yet another obstacle in their search and was about to break the door down, but stopped when Rey put her hand on his arm.

 

“Stop that.” She pushed him out of the way, squeezing his bicep in her effort but then quickly snatching her hand back. “I can open it.”

 

_Was her face flushed? Why was her face flushed?_

 

He watched her kneel down and pull - of all things - a lockpick out of her pants pocket. 

 

“You carry lockpicks with you? Why?”

 

“Shh!” She turned her head to glare at him. “I have to listen.” 

 

Kylo fell silent. He watched, fascinated, as she closed her eyes and manipulated the lockpick with deft fingers, listening and feeling for the right position. He heard it the same time she did, the ‘click’ that signaled the door was open. Rey smiled as she sat back on her heels. 

 

“I still got it.” She murmured and Kylo wondered where she had gotten the skill in the first place. He realized she had never discussed her past - her childhood, her family, anything. But then again, neither had he. Did she know anything about him? What had Luke and Leia told her? Suddenly the cool library was too warm, anxiety heating every pore of his body. 

 

“No one’s been down there for awhile, huh? That lock was nearly rusted shut.” Rey remarked as she stood, completely unaware of his internal struggle. “Is the Legion keeping a troll down there?”

 

Uneasiness tinged her voice and he was mercifully brought out of himself at the sound. 

 

“Are you afraid, Dragonborn?” He found the gumption to tease, even as he continued to wrestle with the questions that burned his mind.

 

“Only of your jokes.” She snapped in reply and swept past him onto the dark staircase, the little light above her head guiding the way. Kylo let out a breath slowly and took a torch from the wall beside the door, forcing himself to go down the stairs and follow her light.

 

The staircase spiraled down, down, down until the light from the open door above them was only a speck against a black canvas. It ended in the center of a narrow stone room brimming with bookshelves and stacks of dusty scrolls. Kylo took his torch and lit the sconces bracketed to the walls. 

 

“I didn’t think Solitude went this deep.” Rey whispered, slowly circling the room as her eyes took in the ancient books. 

 

“Neither did I.” Kylo responded honestly. 

 

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I thought you’d been down here before?”

 

“No.” He shook his head. “I only know of this place. I’ve never been down here.”

 

“Afraid of the dark, Dragonborn?” Rey taunted with an impish smile. 

 

Kylo rolled his eyes but didn’t respond, instead gesturing with the torch to a bookshelf on their right. “Start over there. I’ll start here. We’ll meet in the middle.”

 

Time lost all meaning as he poured over the new texts, becoming engrossed in the information that didn’t have anything to do with their purpose for being there but was too fascinating to ignore. He leaned against the shelf he had chosen and turned the pages of his latest choice carefully. His knew his black tunic was probably covered in cobwebs and dust but couldn’t bring himself to care. 

 

He had no idea how long he had been standing there like that when Rey cried out that she had found something. Even in his haste to reach her side Kylo did not forget to gingerly place the book he had been studying back into place on its bookshelf. 

 

When he reached her side her face had taken on a serious expression. “What is it? Alduin?” he asked, reaching for the book. She withheld it from him though, and he stopped. She was standing rigidly and refused to look at him. He knew they’d had some tense moments and were, technically, enemies, but he had thought they had reached an unspoken accord.

 

And after that morning perhaps something more. 

 

Yet she was tense, back straight and knuckles white against the book she held so defensively. 

 

“Rey, what is it?” He asked, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. 

 

Rey cleared her throat and finally darted a look at him. Her eyes, usually so warm, seemed stripped of emotion, freezing his insides as they had at the treaty meeting in Whiterun. “Yes. It mentions Alduin. And the Blades.”

 

Kylo clenched his jaw and took a step back, understanding washing over him as bloody memories flooded his mind and his fears were realized. “I see. Luke told you.”

 

She nodded, her eyes falling back to the book. “He told me everything.”

 

“Everything?” Kylo asked sharply, causing Rey to look up at him. “You think you know everything?” Her eyes gave him the answer. “Ah, you do.”

 

Foolish girl. 

 

What did she know? She only had Skywalker’s word and that wasn’t worth much. 

 

“I know you killed innocents and betrayed the people who loved you most.” She hissed and he didn’t miss how thick her voice had become, how tears had begun to track their way down her cheeks. His own emotions - angry, hurt, confused - threatened to overwhelm him and only with great effort did he manage to keep them at bay. Her next words nearly undid all his efforts.

 

“Your own father?” She whispered. “Did you hate him so much?”

 

Of course she would know about his father. He was sure Luke had taken special care to mention that.

 

He answered instinctively and quickly, the way the truth usually makes itself known. “I didn’t hate him.” 

 

Rey’s tear-stained face morphed into disgust. “You’re a monster.” Her voice dripped with venom, pricking Kylo and seeping into his blood. 

 

Kylo gazed at her intently and found he felt no malice, only weariness. “Yes.” He murmured so softly he wasn’t sure himself if he had spoken aloud or if the words were in his head. “Yes, I am.” 

 

He then reached for the book and slipped it from her hands, grateful that she didn’t resist or even flinch at his nearness. She only stared at him in confusion and what appeared to be pity, which ate at him more than hatred would have. He didn’t have the fortitude to continue the conversation; instead he focused on their task and hoped that she would as well.  

 

The book’s text was in ancient Nord, a language he knew well. Rey must have picked it up through her dreams.

 

“This says the Blades sent Alduin through some portal. _They didn’t have the strength -_ no, ability _\- to kill him_.” He translated. Rey was silent but it was deafening and he continued to drown it out by reading aloud. “ _No Dragonborn. Couldn’t Shout him down…_ They wouldn’t have been able to pierce his skin even if they did anyway.” Kylo interjected his own thoughts. He turned the pages and tried to read through them as quickly as he could. “Wait, they did… but how? How did they do it?” He said feverishly. “How..? _Skyhaven Temple?_ ” He narrowed his eyes at the runes on the page. “The answer’s there.”

 

He snapped the book shut and forced himself to look at Rey. She was still watching him, though her eyes were unreadable, as if she wore a mask.

 

Whatever existed between them was different now; he was sure she hated him and would most likely try to kill him at the end of all this, but until then, they still had a mission. 

 

Until Alduin was dead they were allies, however much she disliked it. 

 

And then… and then only the Divines knew who would be victorious. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo set off on their journey in The Reach but find their path blocked by a new enemy. 
> 
> In Windhelm, the Resistance receives important news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a slightly shorter chapter, but there will be another published tomorrow! I had to split this section into two. Got a little carried away and it was originally over 6 thousand words. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I'm on twitter! My handle is [@StarToured](https://twitter.com/StarToured)

Dawn arrived with a sense of urgency. 

 

The discovery in the library had apparently given Kylo a razor focus and he had been up all night making plans. Rey had dragged herself with him wherever he went, wishing for all the world she could go to sleep and end the nightmare of a day but at the same time she needed to pay attention and know what he was planning. 

 

Rey had tried to focus on the tasks he assigned her - tell the smith to shoe the horses, give the kitchen the supply list, etc. - but one thing kept going through her mind: she was about to go on a journey into the desolate wilderness of Skyrim with Kylo Ren. Alone. 

 

A man she had called a monster and didn’t trust any further than she could throw a giant. 

 

That’s what she said to herself when she thought of his eyes, so lost and pained in that dim archive, so unlike how she imagined a monster to appear. It left a sourness in her gut - regret - that she had cursed him so unkindly. 

 

If Finn had been there he would have looked at her in shock and probably told her to get some fresh air or a drink. The thought made her smile and gave her some relief from the gloominess pervading her mind. 

 

When she finally fell into bed in the early hours of the morning, exhausted, Kylo’s eyes continued to appear in her dreams, disrupting her rest to the point of nonexistence. She woke at dawn, more tired than she when she had closed her eyes, to Kylo pounding insistently at her door. She muttered a curse under her breath, lamenting that she could get no rest because of him, and threw a spell at the door to muffle the noise. 

 

She may have to get up but she didn’t have to hear him. 

 

* * *

 

Before meeting Kylo at the stables, Rey found a courier and sent a coded message to Poe, outlining all that had happened since she had left him at Whiterun. With luck he would receive it before she and Kylo returned to Solitude from The Reach.  At least the Resistance would have something should they not. Turning toward the city gates, she didn’t see Hux stop and speak with the courier. 

Rey’s head swam as she thought about their destination, a cave called Karthspire. Not only was it in the wilds - where there were few roads and even fewer people - but it was deep in Forsworn territory. 

 

The ancient temple had belonged to the Blades in their golden age, long before Kylo helped destroy them, when they were Skyrim’s protectors against the dragons in tandem with the Dragonborn. It had taken a little more research to find exactly where; the aged tomes guarded their secret well. 

 

Tullius, while relieved the pair had made progress, was reluctant to let them go, but eventually acquiesced to Kylo’s firm argument it was necessary. Karthspire was their only lead. They had to follow it. 

 

Rey thought back on all this as she walked to the stables to join Kylo. He was already there, as she had expected, checking the saddle on his horse. Rey was astonished to see that he had abandoned his unusual black armor for black trousers and tunic and exchanged his cape for a wolf’s fur coat. It was more practical given their mission but also made him appear younger, more like an adventurer than a soldier. More like who Rey imagined Ben Solo had been. 

 

He turned from Silencer at Rey’s footsteps and grunted a hello. Rey nodded in reply, unsure of how to conduct herself around him now. Their tentative alliance had been… strained. If there was a solution, she couldn’t see it. 

 

She moved to Falcon’s side - she was grateful to find a stablehand had already saddled the horse for her - who knickered happily at Rey’s appearance and nuzzled her pockets for sugar cubes. 

 

“No secrets from you, huh?” Rey murmured as she gave the sweets to the horse. Falcon’s whiskery nose tickled Rey’s palm as she snuffled up the treats, eliciting an impromptu giggle from Rey. Kylo glanced up but quickly averted his eyes when Rey met his gaze. 

 

As Falcon munched on her snack Rey stuffed her knapsackfull of clothes and potions into the saddlebags already arranged on the horse’s rump and then mounted her. Kylo followed suit and with a silent agreement they trotted out of the stableyard and down the path south. 

 

* * *

 

 On the other side of Skyrim, in Windhelm, Leia sat on her throne and listened to the reports from the Resistance’s captains and generals. 

 

A skirmish here and there with the Legion, though there was supposed to be no violence between the two sides under the truce. Both sides claimed the other started it. These created a diplomatic headache through which Leia had to work in order to maintain the truce and keep Rey safe. 

 

It was as she listened to General Ackbar’s report of a dragon attack on Winterhold that Poe swept into the room holding a letter. He motioned toward the Resistance war room and Leia stood immediately, abruptly interrupting Ackbar’s account. 

 

“Kaydel, please take down what the general has been saying,” she ordered her assistant, who immediately pulled Ackbar aside with grace, soothing his complaints at the rude disruption. Leia had no idea what she would do without the young woman. 

 

Seconds later she was in the war room, where found Poe feverishly pacing the floor. 

 

“Commander, what news have you?” Leia placed her palms on the table in the center of the room, clothed in a map of Skyrim that was dotted in red and blue flags denoting Resistance and Legion locations, respectively. 

 

“From Rey.” Poe lay the letter he held down on the table and Leia took it. 

 

As she read her heart leapt to her throat. The emperor would be in Skyrim in a matter of weeks, the great black dragon had a name, and Rey was traveling with Ben. 

 

Rey had written the code words for Kylo Ren but Leia replaced it with her son’s true name in her head, as she did with all news about him. The wound in her heart caused by his absence ached anew and she yearned for her child to find his way home. Leia sensed - or perhaps it was a foolish hope playing tricks on her mind - that the young girl could help him. 

 

“We need to send out spies for more information.” Poe said, breaking Leia out of her thoughts. 

 

She looked up at the Resistance commander, who she was so fond of yet could be so maddening in his swing-first-ask-questions-later attitude. Now, though, he was correct. They needed more details. 

 

“Do it.” She ordered. “And alert our allies to be ready.”

 

With a nod Poe hurried out of the room and Leia was left alone with the letter. She stared at it and hoped.

 

That was all she could do. 

 

* * *

 

Karthspire Cave lay deeper in the wilderness of The Reach than Rey imagined. She had never seen such an unruly land or so many rocks in her life. As they had breached the border into the hold their path transformed from smooth dirt to gravel, so that the horses could not move without kicking up a rock. More than once Rey and Kylo had been forced to dismount and scrape a stone from one or more of their horse’s hooves. 

 

After two days of traveling in which neither slept well - for Rey it was more discomfort on the pebbled ground than distrust of her companion - they reached Karthspire, but found that it was not wholly abandoned. 

 

The two Dragonborn lay on their stomachs atop a ridge overlooking a small valley where the entrance to the cave lay. The path, however, was not clear. A Forsworn village lay in their way, made up of at least a dozen domes made of twigs and the Reach’s unique brambles. Even Rey, stranger as she was to this area of Skyrim, knew of the Forsworn’s bloodlust.

 

The wild people of The Reach showed no mercy to anyone but their own. Nords, Elves, Imperials, it didn’t matter. If Forsworn blood did not flow through your veins you were as good as dead.

 

“What do we do?” Rey whispered, glancing at Kylo. It was cold on the ridge, winter well underway in most parts of Skyrim, and in The Reach it was no different. Except there winter came with biting winds and icy rain. One of those fell winds blew, piercing her woolen coat to sink through her flesh and into her bones; her teeth chattered involuntarily. She couldn’t feel her nose and rubbed it absently with gloved fingers to warm it. 

 

“We either sneak around them or fight them.” Came Kylo’s gruff reply. He seemed untouched by the cold, but as the wind picked up and blew his hair about Rey could see how red his ears had become. 

 

“We’re going to freeze to death up here if we don’t do something,” she huffed. “I have an invisibility spell that might help us sneak through it.” She hadn’t used it before and didn’t know how long it might last but they didn’t have much of a choice.

 

Kylo looked at her with raised brow. “Do you have enough magicka to use it on both of us?”

 

“Unless you want to fight a hundred Forsworn warriors I don’t think I have a choice.” She retorted dryly, offended he doubted her abilities.

 

After that - the longest conversation they’d had since leaving Solitude - the pair snuck down the ridge and back down to their horses. They had to leave the animals hidden a hundred yards from the village or risk them being seen or heard, but Rey left Falcon reluctantly. The old mare wasn’t used to so much uncertainty and Rey worried. In a childish reassurance uncharacteristic to him, that for some reason worked, Kylo said that Silencer would keep Falcon safe. 

 

Then the two Dragonborn moved as close to the Forsworn village as they could without being seen. Hiding behind an outcropping of rocks, Rey lifted a hand over Kylo and focused her eyes on his shoulder, not caring to look directly at him. But she could feel him as he watched her cast the spell, probably waiting for her to fail. A small rush of wind signaled her success and right before her eyes Kylo disappeared. With a breath of relief Rey closed her eyes and cast the spell on herself. She could feel the drain on her magicka, but didn’t say anything to Kylo. The spell had worked; that’s all that mattered. 

 

When she opened her eyes she looked down and was met with the disconcerting comprehension that her body had disappeared. A rustling in front of her was the only clue that Kylo was still there.

 

“Try to stay at the edge of the village.” He whispered.

 

What neither of them thought of before was how they were to keep up with each other, having no idea where the other was now. Rey followed Kylo as best she could by what she could hear ahead of her, assuming he had taken the lead. She sent silent prayers to Stendarr as she snuck past each Forsworn hut, begging for his mercy and for luck that the invisibility spell would last. 

 

But her prayers were not enough. 

 

Halfway through the village Rey’s energy wavered and with a soft shimmer she and Kylo were exposed. 

 

They froze, crouching, in front of a Forsworn home. For a beat neither dared to move, then Rey turned her head into the home. Maybe it was empty. Maybe they Stendarr had listened to her pleas. 

 

But instead of emptiness she locked eyes with a man, lothed only in a loincloth and hide boots despite the bitter cold, sat cross-legged on the ground before a fire, staring at her in shock. A pair of antlers sat atop his head, denoting his status and Rey’s gut twisted in fear. He was a Briarheart - a Forsworn shaman with formidable magical abilities.

 

Rey swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away, waiting for the Briarheart to make his move. Slowly he rose, a hand outstretched, and Rey saw a purple light emanate from his palm. 

 

She tumbled forward just as the spell split from his hand and hit the earth with a crack. When she jumped to her feet she saw the ground burned where she had been seconds before. 

 

The Briarheart emerged from his home with a brutal shout, shaking his arms over her head. Rey could hear footsteps pounding in their direction and drew her sword, holding it one hand so that she could cast a spell with the other.

 

But before she could so much as think of a spell a strong, black-gloved hand gripped her free one and tugged her around, pulling her into a run away from the onslaught of Forsworn. 

 

Fierce battle cries echoed around them as Kylo sprinted into the center of the village, forced into that route by groups of Forsworn blocking their path at every turn. 

 

Rey could feel electricity in the air and knew the spell was coming before it was cast. She stopped abruptly, forcing Kylo back just in time with a sharp tug on his hand. They fell backwards in a heap just as a ball of fire erupted in front of them. Rey raised her arms to shield her eyes from the heat and flame. 

 

Rising quickly, the two Dragonborn whipped around at the sound of hysterical laughter from behind them. The Briarheart stood there with a hideous grin on his face, surrounded by the denizens of the village. 

 

Crude but dangerous axes, maces, and clubs waved in the air violently as the Forsworn group - at least fifty warriors - surrounded Rey and Kylo in a circle. 

 

The pair spun and stood back to back, weapons raised high, prepared to fight for their lives. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo face the Forsworn in heated battle and then discover an important clue to their mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so frustrated with this section when I started to edit it - that's partially why updating has taken so long and I had to split up a chapter into two - but now I'm pretty pleased with it. I hope you like it!

The Forsworn battle cries grew louder as they pushed forward into the circle, forcing Rey and Kylo even closer together until they were touching. 

 

“Rey,” Kylo’s voice sounded strained behind her; she could feel the muscles in his back tense as he lifted his sword, lowering himself into a defensive stance. “Stay close to me.”

 

She didn’t reply, too focused on scanning the crowd of swarming Forsworn, searching for the one who would make the first move, but she had no intention of moving. 

 

The Forsworn hissed and gnashed their teeth, chomping at the bit to bury their weapons in the intruders flesh. 

 

It happened with no warning. A Forsworn charged at Kylo, a feral cry ripping from his lips. Rey felt Kylo swing his massive broadsword and when it connected with a wooden weapon with a mighty crack she shook with the reverberation. 

 

She glanced back just as he took another swing, sword whipping the air above his head, and cut the stunned Forsworn’s head clean off. 

 

Something wet landed on her cheeks and she reached up absently to wipe it away. It was a viscous and red and with horror Rey realized it was blood. 

 

Bile rose in her stomach and she was transported back to the barrow near Riverwood, where she had killed a man the first time. The only time. 

 

Falmer didn’t count. They weren’t human or elf or orc. They were evil creatures with no soul. 

 

She hadn’t wanted to kill again, had been spared from it since the barrow so far by the Divines’ mercy. 

 

That mercy had run out. 

 

Kylo’s kill cruelly revealed that she would have more blood on her hands, literally. 

 

A whisper in her ear brought her attention back to the Forsworn. 

 

Rey watched as the head of Kylo’s victim rolled away, leaving behind a trail of blood and gore. The body fell heavily, spilling scarlet over the ground. 

 

For a moment there was silence, the Forsworn apparently surprised by Kylo’s quick success. 

 

Then the wild people, made bitter by a hundred years of displacement, converged on the Dragonborn. 

 

There was no time to hesitate; she let instinct take over, let all the training Kylo had put her through command her mind. 

 

Rey and Kylo swung their weapons at the same time; steel slid into flesh and broke bone as the pair moved in tandem to part the wave of Forsworn. 

 

In the chaos one clear thought pierced Rey’s mind: she had never experienced anything like this before. 

 

She and Kylo moved as one - she knew exactly what he was going to do before he did it, and he must have known hers as well. Each parry and thrust was given in support of the other. No Forsworn weapon could break through their volley. 

 

New confidence spurred Rey into faster, more adept movements, eager now to test this new synergy between she and Kylo. 

 

But when she was convinced the battle had swung in their favor, another spell from the Briarheart shook the ground and forced Kylo and Rey apart. 

 

It was only by a foot, but it was enough. 

 

They were surrounded in an instant, the Forsworn pushing them away from each other with weapons and fists. At least half set upon Rey, viciously stabbing and swinging heavy weapons at her gut. 

 

Rey didn’t have time to think, only to react, as the Forsworn attacked, one after the other. She could barely take a breath before another lunged at her and she was forced to parry the blow. She ducked to avoid another hit and heard the axe head whistling past her ear, barely missing her neck. 

 

The next minute was a flurry of shouting, grunts, and angry clangs as the two Dragonborn continued to ward off the assault, now parted from each other and less assured.

 

Even so body after body fell before them, and the sparse field was drenched in blood.

 

Neither Dragonborn had time to formulate a Shout, the assault too heavy to even think of one Word of Power. But Rey did what she could with spells, firing ice and conjuring small shades to assist. The Briarheart, however, did not let her assaults last long, and in the end she was so frustrated she gave up on magicka altogether; she was sure the shaman would take the chance to end her. But the spell never came, only more Forsworn warriors. 

 

Just as she began to wonder why the Briarheart hadn't made his move, Rey heard Kylo give a pained cry. 

Her heart jumped in her throat and she twisted, stabbing a Forsworn viciously to get him out of her way as she tried to find her companion. Panic set through her and she feared the worst; she didn’t waste any time to wonder why she cared so much. 

 

At last she spotted him, parrying five Forsworn. 

 

He had been struck - his shirt was torn at the waist and Rey spotted scarlet - but he was still fighting, his swings powerful enough to take out a giant. He Shouted - Unrelenting Force - and the burly Forsworn men attacking him were knocked back. Three died immediately, necks snapped as they landed, and Kylo swiftly despatched the other two as they lay stunned from the Shout with his sword. 

 

But his back was turned and he did not see the Briarheart appear behind him, hand raised in preparation for a spell.

 

“Ky-!” Rey did not finish the warning. 

 

A Forsworn woman had barreled into her, the impact knocking her down with the Forsworn landing heavily on top of her. The woman straddled Rey and raised an ugly stone-headed club high above her head.

 

Rey was dazed and breathless from the collision, barely able focus as her vision swam before her. She could only credit the Divines that she was able to react in time. As the Forsworn brought the club down Rey reached up and grabbed her attacker’s wrists, stopping the stone just inches from her forehead. 

 

They struggled for a moment. Rey grit her teeth as she held off the woman, who had pressed her body weight into Rey’s arms. But Rey did not allow the club to move an inch closer to her head, and finally the woman lifted herself away, giving Rey a brief moment of relief.

 

Relief did not last more than a second. The Forsworn woman bared her teeth in feral defiance, freeing one hand from Rey’s grip to strike her across the cheek with a clawed fist. 

 

Rey cried out as the woman’s nails dug into her cheek; heat suffused the flesh and Rey could feel blood trickle down her face. Salty tears brought on by the pain stung the wound, further exacerbating agony. 

 

Ugly laughter met her ears, bringing Rey’s attention back to her peril, just as the woman raised the club again, both hands on the hilt. 

 

A glint to Rey’s right alerted Rey to her weapon, which lay just inches from where she struggled with the Forsworn. 

 

The woman uttered a shrill cry and brought the club down. 

 

Rey jerked to the right and grabbed her sword.

 

With a deft twist that Kylo had taught her Rey knocked the club out of the Forsworn woman’s hand and thrust her blade into her enemy’s gut. The woman gasped and for a moment was suspended above her, but then collapsed heavily on top of Rey, one more soul added to her conscience.

 

Rey groaned as she pushed the body of the Forsworn off her chest - her sword remained in the woman’s gut, but her blood had soaked through her clothes - and gasped for breath. Her ribs, her chest, everything hurt, especially her cheek. 

 

She struggled to her feet and pulled her sword from the woman’s body, grunting with the effort. Looking around she saw that the Forsworn were scattering, their numbers dwindled after Rey and Kylo’s ferocious defense. 

 

But before Rey could breath a sigh of relief and rest her tired arms, movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned to see Kylo stuck in a fiery onslaught by the Briarheart. 

 

Kylo Shouted but the shaman cast a spell which knocked him back, cutting Kylo off before he finished the Shout.

 

Then the Briarheart conjured a fire spriggan which set upon Kylo with vehement, quick attacks, giving him no time to Shout again, only to roll away and raise a ward to fend off the fiery bursts. But the Briarheart continued his assault as well, shooting spell after spell at Kylo’s back.

 

Rey could tell he was wavering. Not even his formidable training and strength was enough to fight off two creatures of magic, not after battling the other Forsworn.

 

Rey watched, frozen in horror, as Kylo was knocked down again by a blast from the spriggan. His sword clattered a few away, just out of reach, but his effort was put to putting out the fire erupting on his chest. He lurched toward his weapon but was stopped mid-movement.

 

The Briarheart had cast a spell which seemed to paralyze Kylo and pulled out a weapon that Rey had never seen the likes of before. 

 

It was a short, wooden staff, tapered at the end into a sharp point that was dipped in iron, with smaller points lining sides all the way to the hilt. Rey guessed that when it was thrust into a person, the smaller points ripped the flesh, essentially guaranteeing the victim’s death. 

 

The Briarheart had it resting against Kylo’s chest, it’s tip prepared to pierce his heart. 

 

Rey was shaken from her terrified reverie at the sight. 

 

She did not think. She did not hesitate. She only acted. 

 

Rey crouched, sword pointed at the Briarheart’s back; a combination of rage and resolution freed her from any doubt. 

 

“ _Wuul Nah Kest!_ ” 

 

Whirlwind Spirit pushed her with the speed ofa diving dragon at her target. 

 

The air cracked around her when she stopped, her sword buried in the Briarheart to the hilt. For a second nothing changed; the shaman still stood over Kylo, holding his life in his hands. 

 

Then Rey pulled her sword from his body roughly, not sparing the Forsworn magician any mercy. 

 

The shaman gave a strangled cry and dropped his weapon. He stumbled away a few feet, holding his hands to the gaping wound in his gut, and then fell forward in death. 

 

The spriggan disappeared with a pop and the spell cast over Kylo abated. 

 

Rey collapsed to her knees, shaky from the effort the Shout had taken on her already exhausted body. She shivered as the cold wind, unnoticed in the heat of battle, swept against her sweaty skin. 

 

Kylo groaned beside her and she crawled over to him, her eyes scanning his body quickly to ensure he hadn’t been seriously injured. 

 

The small wound on his side was all she found. 

 

By the Divines mercy it appeared neither of them had life-threatening injuries. 

 

Rey placed a hand over the wound and with a brief flash of light the skin was knit together, smooth and unblemished. 

 

“Kylo,” she gasped; the effort to heal him had been more of a strain than she had expected. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

 

He shook his head, chest rising and falling in quick breaths as he recovered. 

 

“I’m alright. No thanks to that invisibility spell of yours. I thought you knew what you were doing-”

 

Rey couldn’t believe he was angry with her. “You agreed to the risk, Ren.” She growled, glaring at his prone form. “The judgement is on both of us. I did my best.”

 

“You’re ‘best’ nearly got us killed. It’s only by the Divines that we’re alright.” He raised his head and Rey saw him narrow his eyes when they fell on her face.

 

“You’re not alright.” He sat up.

 

“I’m fine.” She said dismissively, determined not to be distracted from defending herself. “Nothing a healing spell won’t take care of. Oh, by the way, you can thank me for taking care of that stab wound. And saving your life.” Rey snapped. 

 

Her cheek throbbed and she winced, tears pricking her eyes. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, determined not to let him see her cry. She could handle this. She’d had worse. 

 

She heard muffled movement and opened her eyes to see he had removed his gloves. Before she could react his hands were cradling her face, tilting it this way and that as he examined the deep scratches on her cheek. His fingers, calloused from years of handling a sword, were gentle on her wounded cheek. Rey held her breath as he rested one hand over the scratch. Heat emanated from his palm as he cast a healing spell, replacing the burning pain with a different warmth. 

 

Her eyes never left his face, awed by the surprising tenderness with which he worked. 

 

His eyes were closed as he focused on the spell. His expression was soft, but there were tiny crinkles at the edges of and between his eyes which gave away that he was concentrating. Healing was not his forte and so Kylo had to put more effort into the spell than others, though he had vastly improved since started to teach him better ways.

 

After it was done his fingers lightly brushed her skin as he removed his hand. 

 

Rey felt a vague sense of loss and shivered.

 

“Thank you.” Kylo said and Rey frowned, puzzled. She should be thanking him.

 

“What for?”

 

“You saved my life." He supplied patiently.

 

“Oh.” Rey’s nod was jerky. She had forgotten that mere seconds before she had been angry with him for not acknowledging that. “Well, if anyone is going to kill you, it’ll be me. Probably after you’ve said something stupid.” She paired a half smile with her attempt at humor. 

 

Apparently she was successful. Kylo snorted in amusement as he rose to his feet then offered his hand to help her up. Rey took it, her slim fingers gliding over his palm before they gripped his muscular forearm - he in turn grasped hers for balance - and she pulled herself up, holding on to him tightly. 

 

“I need thank you, as well.” She pointed at her cheek when she straightened. “For this.”

 

He averted his gaze and nodded in response, lips pursed in a bit of a pout. If she didn’t know better she’d say he looked bashful. 

 

Rey realized their arms were still locked together; his long fingers were wrapped around her forearm in a firm and what she considered (to her own surprise) reassuring grip. They almost completely encircled her slender arm and Rey was reminded of how looming his presence was. It was, paradoxically, even more discomfiting with her growing familiarity with it.

 

She found herself blushing, from embarrassment or shyness she didn’t know, but she immediately released him and drew her hand back. His hand dropped like lead to his side.

 

“We should get moving.” Rey croaked, throat suddenly dry. “We’ve lost a lot of time.”

 

Kylo moved his mouth like he wanted to say something. Rey waited expectantly, but all that came out was: “The entrance to the cave is this way.” 

 

And he strode off without another word. 

 

* * *

 

The path to the entrance of the cave had become overgrown and rockier than any ridge in The Reach they had yet traversed. But they found it and entered the darkness with little trepidation. Neither were afraid of what they might find - draugr, trolls, a whole nest of skeevers - after the Forsworn the pair expected anything and were prepared for it. 

 

They realized soon they needn’t have. The cave was an empty, musty shell where only rats burrowed. 

 

Karthspire had been some sort of grand entrance to the temple but now lay in ruins; felled pillars were scattered along the stone-paved path, chunks of staircases had collapsed, and traps that had lain in wait for an unsuspecting visitor were defunct, the mechanisms too rusted to work. 

 

Darkness enveloped them as they delved deeper and deeper into Karthspire and Rey cast her little bauble of light as Kylo lit a torch. Even combined the lights didn’t illuminate much and they continued their trek in silence, preoccupied with watching their step. After an hour or two of carefully picking their way through a long hallway they entered a large cavern with a grand circular relief of a giant face situated on the opposite end. The room was lit by a few strategically placed windows cut into the stone ceiling. Moonlight streamed through the apertures; they had been in the cave longer than Rey thought. 

 

She looked down and realized the blood on her tunic had dried. 

 

“This is it,” Kylo murmured. “This is the entrance to the Temple.”

 

Rey made a face at the dramatic announcement, scrunching her nose up skeptically. “Where?”

 

He didn’t notice her expression. “Somewhere. Find it.” 

 

Rey moved forward cautiously as Kylo departed her side toexplore the edges of the room. Their footsteps echoed around them and their lights flickered eerily on the walls. As she walked toward the carving of the face she stumbled, nearly falling to her knees, and looked down irritably to find what had tripped her and blast it to ash with a spell. 

 

She was standing in the center of the room upon a circular mound; as she examined it she noticed it was notched with canals that flowed outward and around in bands from the center. It was one of these that caused her to loose her footing. She noticed that one canal sliced a path directly to the face in the wall. 

 

“Kylo,” she called softly. “Here.” Even though they were alone it felt wrong to speak at a normal decibel, as if she might wake the stone face by talking too loudly. 

 

Her companion - who had been examining the face and carvings - threw his hands up and approached her. 

 

He looked down when she pointed to the mound upon which she stood. “What is it?” He asked curtly, as if she had the answer.

 

Rey blinked at him. How was she supposed to know? “I don’t know. But it’s connected to that thing.” She gestured to the face. 

 

Kylo looked from the mound to the relief, his eyes following the canal there and back to the mound. Rey had no idea what he was thinking but when his eyes met hers there was a knowing glint in them. 

 

“Stand aside.” He all but pushed her off the little mound and took her place. 

 

“If you know what it is you have to tell me.” She huffed. “What are you doing? Kylo, stop!” 

 

He had taken out a small dagger and was holding it to his palm. Little drops of blood appeared as he drove the tip into his flesh, but he stopped abruptly at her cry, an annoyed expression on his face. 

 

“It’s the key.” He explained impatiently. “The Blades were servants of the Dragonborn. They had special rituals for the Dragonborn. This must be one of them. My blood should open the door. Yours would work too. Now quiet.” He continued to press the dagger into his palm, grimacing with pain, but stubbornly continued to mutilate his own hand, and the blood leaked from the wound in a healthy trickle. 

 

Rey watched helplessly as he knelt, hand fisted, and allowed his blood to dribble into the tiny indent at the top of the mound. When he was satisfied enough had been given he stepped off the mound, but wobbled a bit, the loss of blood taking its toll. Rey darted forward and grabbed his injured hand, holding it palm up. He tried to tug it away from her but she stubbornly held it and applied a healing spell to the wound before he could protest. 

 

“Next time let me know before you do something stupid.” Rey growled when she was done and pushed his hand down forcefully before turning away. She could feel his eyes on her but was too irritated to pay him any mind. Instead she cast her gaze on the canals to see if Kylo’s theory was correct. 

 

Slowly the river of crimson swirled through the canals and toward the strip which led to the suspected door. When the stream reached the door… there was nothing. 

 

Rey didn’t have to look at Kylo to know he was angry. She could _feel_ it emanating off of him. She was about to suggest they just break the door down with a spell - she was sufficiently recovered from the battle to do it - before he did it with his bare hands, when the entire room started to rumble and slowly, slowly the face in the wall receded and, with a puff of dust, revealed a passageway. 

 

“It worked.” She gasped in disbelief. Kylo made no reply, only stalked forward and picked up his torch where he had abandoned it next to where he had been examining the face. Rey followed him silently, amazed that someone could be so surly after a victory. Her little light bobbed along above her as she moved forward.

 

After a little while - not more than a few minutes - the passageway broke off into two staircases which, most likely according to Kylo, led to the same place. The Dragonborn took the right and after a short climb found themselves in a gigantic cavern, the likes of which Rey could only imagine the Dwarves themselves having carved.

 

Everything was carved with intricate Nordic designs, from the stone walls which surrounded them; on the long table and the chairs which circled it; even the beds the Dragonborn found in rooms which branched off from the main area were covered in runes and animals. 

 

Perhaps this place _had_ been designed by the Dwemer. 

 

The thing which interested them, or rather interested Kylo, the most was the relief which seemed to be the centerpiece of the room. Rey ran her eyes over the stone carvings and marveled at the craftsmanship. The details worked together to weave a story as well as any quilt sewn by a skilled matron. 

 

Terrifying images of Alduin attacking villages with an army of dragons began the story. Runes at the top of the relief outlined the dates.

 

“This happened ages ago,” Rey whispered, shocked. Kylo only nodded in response, engrossed in the stone. 

 

Rey followed him down the wall and they watched the tale unfold before them. The Blades were losing the battle, the Dragonborn then killed by the World Eater, the ominous ancient Nordic translation for Alduin. 

 

They came upon a scene which depicted three people standing atop a mountain. One of them held a scroll as the other two battled Alduin, staving him off as their friend cast some kind of spell. The next section showed a portal of some kind opening up and Alduin disappearing into it. 

 

“What the hell?” Kylo muttered. He knelt and read some runes under the scene. “An Elder Scroll? Those things are myths.”

 

“Apparently not.” Rey shrugged, having no idea what an Elder Scroll was but understanding from the context on the wall that it was powerful. “But what did it do?” 

 

Kylo slowly stood and looked at her grimly. “It sent Alduin through time. In the Blades eternal wisdom they decided that the best way to deal with him was to make him somebody else’s problem.” He slammed the wall with his fist angrily then stared irately at the unharmed stone, nursing a bruised hand.

 

“Hitting rocks isn’t going to help.” Rey shot at him irritably. “Let’s keep reading. There has to be something.” 

 

“There will be nothing. The Blades don’t give answers only trouble. They were as bad as the Greybeards are. Two sides of the same coin then and now.” He spat the words and Rey was once again reminded of his crimes and anger bubbled up inside her. She forced down her feelings, too much was at stake to fight with him now, and moved past him with a sour expression. 

 

“If you’re not going to keep reading then get out of the way.” 

 

Translating ancient Nordic wasn’t Rey’s strongest skill but thanks to whatever power that was within her the knowledge had been passed to her in her dreams. She still struggled, sometimes having to read a word three times before figuring out the translation. Kylo was no help at all, instead deciding to stand behind her and pout like a petulant ten-year-old. 

 

Rey was dogged, however, and did not stop until she reached the end. The Blades may have sent Alduin through time but they were not idle. The Blades who survived spent their days researching and experimenting with spells and, with the reluctant help of the Greybeards, Shouts to defeat the great dragon. 

 

They created their own Shout, one that could not be used by dragons. Dragonrend, which tore a dragon from its place in the sky and forced it to the ground through a deep magic only the Divines could truly understand. 

 

After reading that Rey moved on, too absorbed to tell Kylo right away; in fact she had nearly forgotten he was there, the only clue random scuffs on the stone as he moved about agitatedly. The Shout would not be enough; the Blades knew Alduin’s hide was invincible except by dragon magic and even then only by the most powerful of Shouts. Those took too much energy to project more than once, Rey knew all too well. Even Kylo wouldn’t be able to keep up that kind of assault for more than a few minutes. 

 

The stone relief showed an expedition into a Dwemer realm, Blackreach, deep in the heart of Skyrim’s earth. At the time the Dwemer still lived in their underground fortresses and the Blades had sought their help. The stone mural depicted an exchange or meeting between them and the ancient, now extinct, Dwarven race. 

 

There was a contract made with the Dwemer - in exchange for something Rey could not make out - for a special ore they had discovered deep in the mountains. It had proved to be the strongest ore discovered and could conceivably be forged into a weapon capable of piercing Alduin. 

 

The name of the ore was just beneath the meeting scene. 

 

Dragonsore. 

 

“That’s not very original.” Rey scoffed aloud after deciphering the rune. 

 

“What?” Kylo’s irritated tone reminded Rey she was still in the company of an angry infant. 

 

She sighed and turned to him. “The Blades knew what they were doing. They were preparing the entire time for Alduin’s return. Preparing us for him.” She hoped savagely he felt guilty for underestimating the extinct warriors, but his only discernible reaction were narrowed eyes. “They worked hard to find a solution. And they did.” 

 

* * *

 

Even after explaining what the relief had shown Kylo insisted on reading it himself, claiming Rey’s knowledge of Nordic was too unreliable. She held herself back from responding, deciding to be the bigger person emotionally when the physically bigger person was being an idiot. 

 

After he came to the same conclusion as Rey, but gave no commendation to her she noted sullenly, they decided their next move. 

 

“We have to go to Blackreach.” Kylo stated, already making his way back to the entrance of the temple. Rey scurried to catch up and slid to a halt in front of him, her hand jetting out and pressing to his chest to stop him. It was, unsurprisingly, remarkably firm, but more surprising was that he stopped at her touch. 

 

“We don’t even know where it is,” she exclaimed, deciding to brush past the discovery. He glanced down at her hand and she immediately dropped it to her side. With a breath and prayer that he didn’t see the red stain on her cheeks she continued. “We need more of a plan than just ‘going to Blackreach’.”

 

He took a breath and let out it in a long sigh. “I have a plan.” He replied blankly.

 

Rey put her hands on her hips, exasperated. “It’s been five seconds, how do you have a plan?”

 

He dared to smirk down at her as he responded. “I’m the Dragonborn.”

 

“You’re an asshole.”

 

“You’ve said that before.”

 

“Doesn’t make it less true. What’s your plan?” She was done dancing around his cocksure behavior. 

 

“We must travel to Markarth.” He responded simply.

 

Rey frowned in confusion. “That city in those old Dwarven ruins? Why?” She asked. 

 

Kylo fold his arms over his chest - Rey did not fail to notice how the movement emphasized his biceps, already straining through his tunic - and cast his gaze to the ceiling, as if he was calling on all the Divines for patience. 

 

“We don’t have time for me to give you a history lesson, Rey.” 

 

Rey gave him a dangerous look. “Get to the point, Ren.” She snapped, no longer effected by his physique. In fact, she was annoyed by it - specifically by how she had to crane her neck to look up at him; she didn’t exactly cut an intimidating figure standing in front him like that and she knew it. 

 

“The point,” he sniffed, “is that Markarth lays directly over an underground Dwemer thoroughfare. One that might possibly lead to this Blackreach.”

 

“So, we’re going to Markarth.” Rey said wearily, already tired thinking of the journey. 

 

He nodded, a glint in his eyes. “To Markarth.” 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo arrive in Markarth and have an important discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! The next chapter should come sooner but I have some plot revision to do so the next few after that may be slightly delayed. Fear not! This fic is not on hiatus I'll just be posting more slowly while I work out the kinks for this and my other fic.

Markarth was nestled against the Druadach Mountains to the East, a day’s ride from Karthspire. It was the self-appointed capitol city of The Reach but in reality was the only civilized town in the region. Built by the mysterious Dwemer centuries before, the city was a monument to their society.

 

From the lowliest stable to the highest tower Markarth was painstakingly carved into the mountain. Each dwelling had been mined from the stone and banded with gold. Stairs lined the streets, imitating the rolling mountains, reaching higher and higher toward the heavens.

 

Rey had thought Solitude was impressive but Markarth was truly astounding, in both design and character. An ancient atmosphere pervaded the city; whispers of a great metropolis were chiseled into every nook and cranny, etched into every stone.

 

She followed Kylo across a small stream which she noticed flowed down from peak of the city, to the Silver-Blood Inn. It appeared to be the only inn in the town, which surprised Rey. Even Riften had two boarding houses. 

 

“Why is it so small?” She asked as they entered the lodge. Kylo glanced down at her questioningly. “The city.” She explained. “Riften is bigger and it’s just a backwater village.”

 

His eyes took on a curious shine. “Riften.” He murmured. “That’s where you’re from.”

 

“Y-yes.” Rey confirmed, realizing she had never told him. It hadn’t been on purpose. The subject had just never come up. 

Kylo didn’t press further, instead answering her question, for which Rey was grateful. “The Dwemer did not build outward but inward and down. There are ruins beneath Understone Keep - the Jarl’s palace - which indicate this part of the city was just the entrance to a bigger city.”

 

Welcome to the Silver-Blood Inn. I’m Kleppr, the owner. You’ll find there’s not a better inn in Skyrim than my establishment!”A tall, older man with silver-grey hair and beard greeted them as they approached the front desk. His accent suggested he was native to Skyrim, a Nord. “What can I do for you?”

 

“Maybe get them a sack in the street.” Grumbled a voice nearby. Rey and Kylo turned to see a blonde woman, a little younger than the inn’s owner, sweeping the floor next to the desk. 

 

“Frabbi, now’s not the time! Excuse her, friends.” Kleppr turned his attention back to his potential guests, wringing his hands. “My wife is in a foul mood today. You need a room? You’re in luck, we have one more available.”

 

“Just one?” Rey repeated in alarm, not keen on sharing a room with Kylo. 

 

“Is that a problem?” Kleppr looked between the two of them in surprise. “Are you not together?”

 

“We are but-” 

 

Kleppr raised a hand, preventing Rey from finishing her sentence.

 

“Well, I could put you in the common area… but surely a young, married couple such as yourselves would prefer their own room?” The innkeeper glanced at his potential customers slyly. 

 

Beet-red and thoroughly flustered Rey looked to Kylo for help. His face was blank but through his hair she could see his ears had turned pink. 

 

“We’ll take the room.” He stated flatly and Rey swore she could have killed him. At least the conversation was over but he hadn’t even tried to correct the innkeeper. Kleppr gave a nod and walked around the desk. 

 

“Just follow me if you please.” He invited. Kleppr’s wife looked on as they passed with an impish expression that irritated Rey. She stopped to the woman a piece of her mind but Kylo put a hand on her shoulder. A slight shake of his head reminded Rey they had more important things to do. All the same Rey followed sullenly, disgruntled by the turn of events. 

 

“Here you go,” Kleppr held open a door for his guests to a surprisingly spacious bedchamber. 

 

There was enough space for at least three beds. But there was only one. A big one. 

 

Of course. 

 

Rey wondered what kind of establishment this really was. 

 

“I’ll let you two settle in. Just let me or Frabbi know if you’d like any refreshments.” Kleppr bowed a little as he exited, the door latching behind him. 

 

“You can have the bed.” Kylo muttered once Kleppr was gone and tossed his bag onto the floor near the fireplace that was next to the bed. 

 

Rey rolled her eyes, much too irritated to bear his forced gallantry. “Oh please. Don’t pretend to be chivalrous. You sleep on the bed. I’m more used to the floor anyway.” It bit at her to give up what looked like a very comfortable mattress but she refused to take anything he offered anymore than she had to. The congenial mood that had developed between them after Karthspire became an awkward one the moment Kleppr made that stupid remark about being married.

 

“Take the bed, Rey.” Her alleged husband snapped and tugged his bedroll from his bag. 

 

“It’s too big.” She protested stubbornly, pride coming before her desire for the mattress. 

 

“And the entire floor would be better?” Kylo straightened up from his position by the already lit fire to face her, crossing his arms.

 

“Yes.” Rey answered petulantly.

 

“You’re being a child.”

 

“And you’re an irredeemable asshole.” She bit back with a snarl. 

 

His demeanor became unreadable and his arms dropped to his side. He strode over to her, stopping when they were toe to toe. She would have backed up but she was already crowded against the door. Her eyes flew up to his, an even darker brown than she remembered. 

 

She couldn’t breathe. They had been this close before but in the heat of battle or sparring. This was different. There were no distractions, no witnesses. She had no idea what he was gong to do. For the first time Rey was fully conscious she was completely alone with Kylo. 

 

For a beat they stood there, neither saying a word. 

 

Then he ducked. 

 

“Kylo!”

 

Rey yelped as he hauled her over his shoulder. She dropped her bag in surprise and started to pound on his back. 

 

“Put me down!” She demanded loudly. 

 

In two strides he had marched to the bed, but didn’t make another move. Rey could feel his fingers tapping her calves; he was deciding something. 

 

“Kylo!” She kicked out a leg. “I swear to the Divines, if you don’t put me down-”

 

Just then he jerked forward and dropped her onto the bed. She landed on her back with a grunt, the mattress absorbing the impact. If Rey had the thought to spare she would have thought it was incredibly comfortable, but all she could think about was how irritated she was. 

 

She scrambled to sit up and glared up at the too smug man above her.

 

“What the hell, Ren?” She yelled. 

 

Kylo looked down at her with the most conceited grin she’d ever seen on him. That was unacceptable. She kicked him in the thigh forcefully in revenge, which caused him to lose balance and fall forward onto the bed and on top of her, much to her chagrin. She attempted to roll away but he toppled like a tree and pinned her before she had the chance. 

 

“Oof!” Rey pressed her hands into his chest to push him up. “Get off.”

 

He lifted his head, raising himself onto his hands just enough to get most of his bodyweight off of her, and lifted an eyebrow at her. “I can’t imagine this is the result you wanted.”

 

“Just get off me.” She groaned, squirming to maneuver her body out from under him. Panting, she had to stop, face flushed from the effort, when he didn’t move. He was too heavy, the big idiot. Her mouth opened to say exactly that but she stopped when she saw he bore the same heated expression from the sparring field.

 

Moving of its own accord one of her hands reached up to cup his scarred cheek. Her thumb gently caressed the raised skin, soothing pain which probably no longer existed. His eyes drifted closed at the contact, his head tilting ever so slightly into her palm. 

 

“Ben.” Rey whispered, the name leaving her mouth before she had the chance to stop it. Her heart beat a fast tattoo as she waited for his reaction.

 

His eyes didn’t open but he frowned, as if pained. She cupped his other cheek. 

 

“Ben.” She repeated, more strongly. He opened his eyes, briefly flitting to her lips before he met her gaze, asking permission. What surprised hermost was that she would give it. 

 

But the Divines could be cruel as they could be kind. A sharp rap on the door and the creaking of iron hinges shattered the dream and woke Rey and Kylo to bleak reality.

 

“Oh, pardon me!” Frabbi’s voice, dripping with satisfaction, filled the room like a thunderclap. Rey watched as Ben Solo disappeared into Kylo Ren, stony mask covering a gentle face. He quickly pushed himself off the bed and faced the interruption, leaving Rey cold in the absence of his body’s warmth. 

 

An inane conversation began in which Frabbi came up with some stupid excuse for the intrusion, but Rey couldn’t focus. She stood and faced the fireplace, seeking a new source of heat and to compose herself. Perhaps Frabbi would think it was a bride’s shyness, rather than the mixture of disappointment and confusion which afflicted Rey instead. 

 

Ben Solo appeared to her, rising like a specter from Kylo Ren, but then disappeared just as quickly. The conflict within him was agony but even as Rey let a few tears slide down her cheeks for him she realized that meant there was hope. 

 

Their recent exchange in Starkiller Castle’s library cemented that recognition into a vision, solid and clear, a waking dream of his future as Dragonborn.

 

With her help he could turn. By the mercy of the Divines he could turn. 

 

* * *

 

After Frabbi left - nearly pushed out by Kylo - Rey turned from the fire to face him, but the words she had prepared died on her tongue when found him already staring at her. There was a wary look in his eyes, his stance tense as he analyzed what her next move would be. 

 

What was her next move?

 

_Say something._ He seemed to beg.

 

_I wish you had kissed me._

 

“What’d she want?” Rey’s voice cracked, hastily throwing that last thought to the back of her mind. She licked her lips and swallowed to alleviate her dry throat, very aware of Kylo watching the movement. 

 

“Asked if we wanted anything to eat,” he murmured. He took a step forward. “Rey-”

 

“I want to know your side of the story.” She blurted, tossing the dice and testing fate. “I can’t go any further without hearing what happened with your father and Luke.” 

 

She expected him to refuse but instead he tilted his head contemplatively. Then he spoke in a voice devoid of emotion. A shiver ran down Rey’s spine at how inhuman he sounded. 

 

“Luke and I disagreed on the best use of the Way of the Voice. He was afraid of my power and I knew - the same way you do now - I wasn’t meant for the Way. This power… I couldn’t - I can’t - ignore it. You know.” He looked at her plaintively and she nodded quickly. Yes, she knew. 

 

Kylo released a breath, relieved. Rey waited patiently for him to continue. 

 

“I broke his arbitrary rules. I used my power to help someone. I hurt some bad people to save innocents. Luke was very angry.” Kylo clenched and unclenched his fists. 

 

“He told me the two of you fought.” Rey interjected softly and he responded with a humorless laugh. 

 

“Is that how he put it? He Shouted and I Shouted back to defend myself.” Kylo snapped. “I left him on that mountain, under the rocks that would have buried me.” He turned his head, his jaw stiff. “My parents had sent me there, as afraid of my power as Luke. I couldn’t go home. They only wanted to use me anyway, tame me and put me on the front lines defending the Resistance, like a trained horse.”

 

Rey believed him. Divines help her she did and in her heart sprang anger at Luke for hurting his nephew so. 

 

“Just the same as the Resistance wants to use you.” Kylo continued and took another step toward her, a desperate tone in his voice. "They aren’t all they make themselves out to be. They’ve committed crimes, hurt innocents. They’re not the beacon of justice you think them.” 

 

Rey scowled, a hint of doubt creeping into her mind. But even if part of what Kylo said was true, she couldn’t believe Finn or Leia were a part of it.

 

“Tell me then.” She demanded more bravely than she felt. “Tell me what they’ve done.”

 

He blinked then narrowed his eyes. “Ask them yourself. Ask them about Emperor Titus when you see them again.”

 

Rey gazed at him in confusion but he did not elaborate. She asked what he meant but he said nothing. 

 

“What about the Blades then? Why kill them?” She pressed, changing the subject before he shut down completely. 

 

Kylo moved to the small table which stood in front of the fire and sat in one of the plain wooden chairs beside it. “The Blades were complicit with the Resistance. I executed traitors.” 

 

“They trusted you.” 

 

“They should have trusted the emperor, not aligned themselves with Ulfric Stormcloak.” He spat. “Instead they plotted with him and the High King against the Empire. I did what I had to do for Skyrim. For Tamriel.”

 

“Ulfric Stormcloak?” Rey blinked, perplexed. “He was with the Blades? Why?”

 

She remembered the name from a scroll she had read on the history of the Resistance while she was at Windhelm. He was the founder of the movement, a great hero who had died protecting the Resistance. The scroll hadn’t said how he had died, however, and when she had asked Poe he had given her a non-answer. 

 

Kylo snorted and shook his head. 

 

“Ask the Resistance.”

 

Rey pressed her lips together and considered her companion thoughtfully. She found that the hatred for him she had harbored before was gone, replaced with a slow-growing understanding. Even if tempered with distrust. 

 

She saw a wounded man, cast aside by the people he should have been able to trust the most. That was a concept with which she was intimately familiar. 

 

Slowly she walked to the table and sat in the other chair, nearest the fire. Kylo watched her, his expression hesitant and wary. Rey couldn’t find it in herself to reassure him. They weren’t at that point yet. 

 

“And your father?” Rey tried to keep her voice even and her eyes lockedon his face. She dreaded this conversation as much as he but needed it to be explained. 

 

Kylo’s breath hitched, his hands clenching into fists again. “My father… my father was a smuggler. He…” Kylo’s eyes flicked to hers and she saw a glimmer of pain, but also another emotion she couldn’t quite determine. “He was caught in a raid along the road to Windhelm and found with illegal goods. I did what had to do to protect- to protect what was important.” 

 

Rey frowned at his tone; there was a warning there, imploring her to stop asking questions. Silence filled the room for a few moments. Rey didn’t know what to say. 

 

“Are you satisfied?” Kylo broke the quiet first. “Did you hear what you wanted?”

 

What she wanted? No.

 

But she whispered “yes” anyway. 

 

He stood and strode out of the room without another word and Rey was left with more questions than when she had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd y'all think?


	17. Chapter 17

Sleep was hard to come by that night. Rey’s mind would not let her rest; there were too many thoughts, too many questions she needed to have answered. She paced the floor composing a list in her head and when she ran out of things to add she circled back to Kylo. 

 

She considered returning to her line of questioning when he came back but quickly dismissed that idea. If she wanted the answers she sought then she needed to wait until she could ask the source. Kylo was prejudiced and probably wouldn’t talk about it again anyway. 

 

As the hours drew on she began to wonder where he was. Strange as it was considering the nature of their relationship, she worried for him. For reasons she had yet to analyze she wanted him to come back safe. 

 

Her feet began to ache after awhile and she reluctantly laid down on the bed to rest her tired body. She stared up at the ceiling and watched the shadows of the fire dance against the wood grains of the beams, chasing rest only to have it elude her at the cusp. Yet sometime in the early morning hours, in defiance of her restless mind, her eyelids grew heavy and she fell asleep curled atop the woolen blankets. 

 

****

 

_“You betrayed the Voice and deliberately disobeyed me!”_

 

_Rey saw Luke raise an accusing finger at her, his face clouded in anger. She had never seen him like this before: nearly crazed with rage. For the first time she was afraid of him._

 

_She opened her mouth to defend herself (from what she knew not) but the voice that came from her throat - laced with confusion - wasn’t hers._

 

_“The emperor wants to stop this war! I can save thousands of lives! What purpose do I have if not to help my people? I can’t help them by sitting on a mountain and meditating all day!”_

 

_Ben._

 

_“That is not our way!”_

 

_“I don’t want to follow your way!” Ben snarled. His rage coursed through him like a flood. Rey felt it all. Frustration that had built up over months of discouragement bubbled to the surface. “I want to use it. I need to use it.”_

 

_“This is a dangerous path, Ben.” Luke warned._

 

_“I’ll go whatever path I choose.”_

 

Luke’s Shout would echo through Rey’s mind long after the dream ended, just as Ben Solo’s anguish would be imprinted forever in her memory. 

 

_****_

 

The smell of hot porridge drew her out of sleep but she awoke under protest, uttering a muffled whine even though her stomach rumbled for the food. As she stirred Rey felt a soft heaviness across her shoulders and blearily realized Kylo must have covered her with the bedding whenever he had returned. 

 

She opened her eyes and saw him standing before the fire, ignoring the bowl of porridge in his hands to stare into the flames as they crackled and split the logs which fed them. He didn’t know she was awake and she took the opportunity to observe him. 

 

He had a striking profile - his features were soft, even though he was pensive. His dark hair fell to his mid-neck, long enough to hide his charmingly large ears. It was obvious he was embarrassed of them and as Rey gazed at him she was consumed with the desire to caress them and reassure him. 

 

As she pondered the thought Kylo turned and caught her staring. Rey blushed but if he was affected by her gawking he didn’t show it. His expression was blank as he jerked his head in the direction of the table, where another bowl sat with a mug of mead. 

 

“I had Frabbi bring breakfast.” He informed her flatly, belying none of the tenderness she had seen the day before.

 

Irritating as it was to have gone a step back, Rey focused on being patient. She pushed him yesterday, perhaps too much.

 

After seeing through Ben’s eyes what Luke had done, she vowed not to lose her temper with him again. The thought that she should tell him of her dream, that she knew without a doubt what had happened, occurred to her but she decided against it. First she needed Luke to explain his actions. Then Rey could go fully armed against Kylo Ren and help Ben Solo. 

 

“Thank you,” she murmured as she swung out of bed; she shivered when her bare hit the cold stone floor, but didn’t remember taking her shoes off. He must have removed her boots as well. Humming thoughtfully Rey slipped her leather boots back on before joining him at the fire. She sat down at the table and pulled the other bowl of porridge toward her eagerly, her stomach reminding her that she hadn’t eaten the night before. 

 

“What’s the plan for today?” She asked, just before unabashedly sliding a heaping spoonful of the mealy cereal into her mouth. Kylo raised a brow as she ate. She ignored him, instead gesturing to his bowl with her spoon. “Are you going to eat that?” Asking even though she was only half done with her own portion. There was no possibility she was going to waste food. He may have the luxury but she knew better.

 

He glanced down at the bowl in confusion, but then comprehended her meaning and shook his head as he put it on the table in front of her. 

 

“Go ahead. As for today, we’re going to Understone Keep. There’s a wizard there who might be able to help us find Blackreach.”

 

Rey finished her bowl of porridge as he spoke then reached for the second. “Then what?”

 

“Then we go into the ruins.” He responded, settling himself down in the chair opposite hers. “The Dwemer roads converge here; it’s the only place from which we might be able to get to Blackreach."

 

* * *

 

When Rey had eaten her fill - Kylo was surprisingly patient and let her eat as much as she wanted - the two packed up their spartan belongings and left the inn. 

 

Rey was glad to be out of there, if only to get away from Frabbi’s knowing looks as Kylo paid Kleppr with a generous tip. 

 

From the inn the pair made their way up the cobblestone hill to Understone Keep, the stream bubbling cheerfully beside them.

 

It was not a long trek and soon they reached the foundation of the ancient Dwemer keep now inhabited by the Nords. Rey was awed once again by the splendor of the Dwemer.

 

The tower was set deep into the mountain, formed under the magnificent waterfall which originated from the peak and fed the stream. The waterfall was divided into two at the zenith, and surrounded by intricate carvings of bearded faces, runes, and symbols Rey had never seen before. 

 

It was a marvel of architecture, one which even the Empire couldn’t hope to emulate. 

 

Inside was just as grand, if more dilapidated. Stone pillars lay half hidden in dirt, bronze doors cracked at the hinges, and pieces of golden pottery and bronze gears were scattered about. The excavations which had uncovered the keep centuries before were ongoing and would most likely continue for at least another century. Nonetheless the keep was a wonder Rey would not soon forget. 

 

Kylo led the way, diverting to the left toward a large opening which looked to be the result of a cave in not the excavations.

 

Rey briefly wondered how Kylo knew where to go before remembering that he had, of course, been there before. When she realized that she had slept only hundreds of feet above where Kylo’s father was most likely buried she shivered. But it did not dissuade her new determination to help him. No, there was more to be learned there as well, she just needed to be patient. 

 

A guard standing nearby eyed them appraisingly as the pair clambered over a large pile of rocks toward the opening. 

 

“I used to be an adventurer like you,” he intoned wistfully, breaking Rey from her thoughts. “And then I took an arrow to the knee.”

 

Rey wasn’t sure what to do with the unsolicited information so she murmured a condolence and hurried past to catch up with Kylo, who had kept walking. 

 

A huge cavern opened up before her, as if she had stepped through a portal and entered the past. An underground river flowed through what used to be, as far as Rey could tell, some kind of underground entry to and from the keep. A stone bridge crossed the river and ended at a flight of stairs which led to a bronze door; flanking the bridge were stone pillars upon which perched golden warriors with wheels for legs and weapons for arms. Two gold-domed gazebo-like structures branched away from the bronze door, guard posts if Rey wasn’t mistaken. The cavern was illuminated by six large stone fire pits, two at their end of the bridge, two near the door, and one in each of the gazebos. 

 

Various other bronze items and stone structures were scattered about the room, including another gazebo to the left of the bridge on their side. This was a tiny taste of the Dwemer’s underground glory; what the rest would be like Rey couldn’t begin to imagine. 

 

She had stopped upon entering the room to take it in and only realized Kylo had kept going when he called to her, beckoning her over to where he now stood with an older man in tattered wizard’s robes. She made her way over to join him on a tiny platform which projected slightly out over the river. A small alchemy lab and an enchanting table were positioned at either end of the platform, the trademark tools of a wizard. 

 

When she arrived at his side Kylo gestured to the wizard. “This is Calcelmo. He’s the lead archeologist here at Markarth and the foremost expert on the Dwemer in Skyrim.”

 

“If more outside of this cursed land appreciated my work it would be all of Tamriel,” huffed the old man, his white beard puffed out just slightly in indignation. “What is it you want? I’m busy.”

 

“We are here under General Tullius’ orders.” Kylo replied coldly. Rey almost rolled her eyes at his offended tone. Calcelmo was a little gruff but it was not entirely unwarranted. They had interrupted his dig. “Empire business.” Kylo continued. “We need your cooperation.”

 

Calcelmo didn’t seem very impressed by Kylo’s declaration. 

 

“The Empire, eh? Finally taking an interest in my work, is it? About time. But who says I want to share it?” He glared at Kylo. “How do I know you’re not some kind of mercenary hired by one of my rivals? You’re just the type…” The wizard cast his eyes on Kylo suspiciously. 

 

Rey put a hand on Kylo’s arm just as he took a threatening step toward the wizard. He growled low in his throat but relaxed. 

 

“Please, Master Calcelmo,” Rey cleared her throat and stepped in front of Kylo, deciding that she should take over the conversation. She could feel the angry heat radiating off his body and prayed to the Divines he would control his temper long enough for them to get what they needed. “We just need some information about Blackreach. That’s all and then we’ll be out of your way.”

 

Calcelmo stiffened. “Blackreach? That city is nothing but myth.”

 

“We have, uh, received information that it isn’t.” Rey replied carefully, unsure of how much she should tell Cacelmo about their mission. “Is there anything you can tell us about it? It’s location, perhaps?”

 

The wizard seemed to consider something for a minute, studying the pair before him with narrowed eyes. Kylo fidgeted impatiently behind her and she could feel it the instant he was about to open his mouth and probably ruin their chance. Whiterun had taught her he wasn’t the best negotiator. 

 

She half-turned and put a hand on his chest, imploring him with her eyes and touch to wait. He pressed his lips together and gave a slight nod in reply. With a sigh of relief Rey focused her attention back on Calcelmo, her hand dropping to her side, but she noticed Kylo edge closer to her. A week ago his hulking presence so close at her back would have made her itch to get away. But in that moment she found it comforting. 

 

Calcelmo had watched the exchange with interest.

 

“You have him wrapped around your finger, eh?” He chuckled heartily and Rey’s face heated in embarrassment. It probably looked redder than a tomato. “Well, I don’t believe you’re bandits. I suppose I can tell you what little there is to know of Blackreach.” He pointed to a stone bench nearby. “Sit.”

 

Though there may have been scant information on the legendary city, Calcelmo was not brief. The bits of details the Dragonborn could garner was cut with long monologues on Dwemer culture and architecture. More than once Rey had to squeeze Kylo’s forearm to prevent him from leaping up and Shouting the old wizard into the river. 

 

She couldn’t blame him. Calcelmo was impossible to wrangle and Rey found herself frustrated with the old wizard’s waxing on and on about the Dwarves. Just not enough to kill him. 

 

Eventually they learned that the city was deep, deep in the heart of the ancient underground Dwemer civilization, miles from Markarth most likely. It would be days before they reached it, if it were indeed in the place Calcelmo suggested they look. If they left through the bronze door in that very room they would be on the road likeliest to lead to the city.

 

It was mid-afternoon when they finally extricated themselves from Calcelmo’s suddenly friendly dialogue. They made their excuses and left to get more supplies, but informed him they would be back soon to begin their journey. 

 

They were directed to Arnleif and Sons by one of the keep’s guards, the same who had mentioned his knee injury. He told them it was the best place in the city for their needs.

 

"Has everything an adventurer could want." He told them with a heavy sigh. 

 

When they reached the store the pair focused on the most basic of tasks: gathering camping supplies, potions, and food for their journey.  While they were there Rey saw a courier about to head into the wilds, pack heavy with mail. At first she was excited for the opportunity to send an update to the Resistance, but Kylo’s words returned to her, and she hesitated. 

 

On the one hand she was due and didn’t want her friends to worry. On the other she didn’t know anymore if she could fully trust the Resistance leaders. A compromise occurred to her and she snuck away from Kylo to catch the courier. She wrote a brief note detailing where she was  in a letter that didn’t need to be encoded .  The finer details weren’t necessary, not yet. Not until she and Kylo had completed their mission.

 

When she returned to Kylo, a magicka potion in her hand as an excuse for her absence even though sending a letter wasn't against the truce, they made their way back to Understone Keep. But as they approached Rey’s thoughts whirled and plummeted her into a maelstrom of fear should they fail. 

 

“Do you think that it’s really there?” Rey couldn’t help voicing her concern. If Blackreach didn’t exist, then neither did the dragonore. If that was the case there would be no hope to defeat Alduin.

 

“It has to be.” Kylo replied simply. 

 

Calcelmo greeted them upon their return and eagerly led them to the bronze door. He opened it and revealed a hallway lit with some sort of mysterious blue sconces, covered in cobwebs, and littered with broken stones. Kylo was the first to step in but Rey was close behind him. 

 

“May the Divines be with you,” Calcelmo told them solemnly. 

 

Then he closed the door and they were alone, facing ancient depths and secrets that not even Calcelmo could comprehend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For updates and general reylo silliness follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/StarToured) and [tumblr](http://star-toured.tumblr.com/)!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Resistance is troubled by Rey's recent missive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, and all the kudos! I'm so happy to see you're enjoying this story!

The Windhelm docks were a small but busy affair. Some of the platforms were worn and splintered, all of them were iced over, and most were sagging into the harbor. It was a sorry state but the only safe port for merchants who did business with the Resistance. 

 

Finn thought it incredibly dreary and thus perfect for his temper that day as he sat on a crate nestled against the city’s icy stone wall and watched sailors haul cargo on and off their ships. He eyed their sleek wooden crafts as they bobbed in the water, dragon headed bows preening and mocking him, driving his already bad mood into a worse one. Those figureheads reminded him that his friend was gone, off fighting monsters with another monster who masqueraded as a man. 

 

The bitter sea wind bit through his hide coat but he barely felt it. He wasn’t feeling anything, his focus solely on Rey. Was she safe? Was she even alive? Maybe that bastard Kylo Ren had killed her and faked those letters to the Resistance. Of all the scenarios that ran through his head the least nauseating was that Rey was being kept prisoner in Solitude. 

 

Poe nor Jarl Organa seemed very concerned about it though. When Finn brought up his concerns they told him that he just needed to trust Rey, that she was capable of handling herself. 

 

He knew that. Better than they did. But why should that prevent him from worrying? He had nothing else to do. He and the other Resistance agents were on mission hiatus until that damned dragon was killed. Part of the truce with the Empire. The only person in that kind of position was Rey. 

 

_Rey. I wish you could send me a sign you’re alright._

 

“Hey, mister.” A cheery voice popped up beside him and Finn turned to see Rose Tico standing beside his crate. “You’re gonna catch your death out here.”

 

“Rose… why did Rey send such a short letter last time? Why hasn’t there been any since? Why isn’t the Resistance more worried about her?” Finn blurt out all the questions building up in his mind. He didn’t mean to burden Rose. She had enough on her plate, what with her sister missing. “Sorry.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I know I should trust in the Resistance.”

 

Rose sighed heavily and lifted herself onto a barrel beside the crate. Her legs swung a little, heels tapping the wood. 

 

“Y’know, it’s okay to be worried for your friend. No one thinks that’s wrong.” She told him gently. Finn marveled at her patience. “You wouldn’t be a very good friend yourself if you weren’t.”

 

“Thanks.” He murmured, and for a moment he was calm, until he remembered the question that had burned at him ever since he’d read Rey’s last communique. “But why are they in Markarth? Do you think he took her to the mines? Or worse, what if she turned? What-”

 

“Finn!” Rose put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “She’s alright! Rey is alright. She would never let something like that happen.” 

 

Finn growled in frustration. “I know! I just… I hate this.” He ran a hand over his face. “He’s a monster, Rose. I’ve seen him do terrible things. But there’s some connection between them that I can’t understand. Rey was so strange at Ivarstead. She said things… as if she understood him.” He pressed his lips together. “But you’re right. If I can’t trust that she’ll do the right thing, then I can’t trust anything.”

 

His companion pat his arm and reached for his hand. “Come on. Let’s go warm up in the inn. Chewie’s back from his hunting trip and already regaling the city with his ridiculous stories.” Rose grinned. 

 

Finn snorted a laugh and intertwined his fingers with hers. Over the last few weeks his former handler had quickly gone from friend to something more. “I wonder how many giants he killed this time?” He joked. Chewie had the best tales, often ending with him defeating some mythic beast or a giant and coming away with all the treasure the creature had been hoarding.

 

Which, of course, he had to drop because of Imperial checkpoints. 

 

The pair set off to the inn, eager to hear what Chewie had come up with this time. As they climbed the stone steps from the docks to the iron gate of the city Finn shut out all his doubts about Rey. His fears were unfounded. There was no reason for her to side with Ren or the Empire. Rose was right. Why should he worry?

 

* * *

 

Poe Dameron considered the little note in his hands gravely. Rey’s stilted script was rushed, as if she had scribbled down the words as an afterthought. He didn’t know what it meant but the lack of her usual detail was disturbing. He couldn’t express his concerns with anyone else but Leia. After allowing Finn to look at the note when it arrived Poe had rushed off to Leia. 

 

He stood in her private chambers, having just read it aloud, and waited for her reaction. 

 

“This is the first time she’s been so brief.” Poe added, the silence too deafening. 

 

His commander heaved a sigh and pressed a hand to her lips as she thought. She stood beside a desk covered in parchment: requests for supplies, armed assistance, details on Imperial movements - everything that was happening in the Resistance and its allied lands. 

 

But the tiny piece of paper Poe held was the most important missive in the room. 

 

He cleared his throat. “I fear Kylo Ren may have told her about Stormcloak.” He said carefully, hesitant to broach the subject however necessary it might be.

 

Leia looked up sharply, her brown eyes narrowing. “Why would he?”

 

“My Jarl,” Poe sighed. “Why wouldn’t he?”

 

It pained him to see his commander - a woman he had looked up to for years, even before the war had started - be so grieved by three simple words.

 

“He may have,” she admitted softly. “But would she believe him…”

 

Poe sucked in a breath. “I can’t say, my lady. But if she does, if she takes what he says as the full truth, then we are doomed.”

 

“Such sorrow, commander?” Poe was surprised to hear humor in his leader’s voice. “What do you fear, Poe? That she’ll betray us?”

 

Poe hesitated. “Frankly, yes. She’s young, my lady. Inexperienced. She may be the Dragonborn but that does not make her wise. It only makes her more dangerous.”

 

“Perhaps. But I wonder if it would be so terrible that she believe him? It’s the truth, after all, even if it’s only one half of the story.”

 

“My lady?” He scowled. “You’re not serious. If she joins the Empire the dragons will be the least of our concerns.”

 

“Oh, calm down, Poe.” Leia’s reassuring smile did little to assuage Poe’s dismay. “Despite Ulfric’s ulterior motives the war is now justified. Snoke _must_ be deposed. I don’t doubt Rey’s loyalty to that cause. I just wish… I wish that I had been brave and told her what happened myself. Armed her with the truth. But morale is so low… if Ulfric’s sins were made public…”

 

“You did the right thing, Leia.” Poe dropped formality to emphasize his assurance. “You’ve always done what you thought was right. I’ve never questioned you.”

 

Leia laughed softly. “Isn’t that why we’re in this mess? Not being more critical of our leaders?”

 

Poe had nothing to say to that, he could only stand dumbly. He had been one of the many who had followed Ulfric blindly, another young idealist taken up by Stormcloak’s romantic promises of an independent Skyrim. It had all been a lie. A lie that been the catalyst of a civil war that had ravaged Poe’s beloved land, the land he had wanted to save. What a foolish, foolish boy he had been. He had paid the price, many times over, as warrior after warrior under his charge was cut down in bloody battles against the Empire. 

 

“Poe.” Leia’s voice was gentle and brought the soldier out of his grief. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We all trusted him.” 

 

How she knew exactly what he had been thinking Poe couldn’t guess.

 

“Thank you.” He paused. “But what about Rey?”

 

Leia took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly. “We can only hope, Commander Dameron, that if she knows the truth, she will make wiser decisions than we have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is shorter than the others but there's a lot coming up in the next one! Stay tuned!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo explore Dwemer ruins for the legendary city of Blackreach but find more there than ancient Dwarven treasure.

Two days after they entered the Dwemer ruins from Markarth the Dragonborn were deeper in the ancient civilization than any archeologist had ever been. 

 

The Dwemer halls which remained intact were lit with an eternal blue flame contained in brass sconces. Neither Kylo nor Rey could guess what deep magic kept them burning, waiting for the masters of those halls to return. 

 

But various cave-ins - natural and unnatural - had destroyed some halls and blocked Rey and Kylo’s path, forcing them into pitch black tunnels which Kylo feared were stocked with hidden danger. Though he wished he could light the torch in his pack, Kylo and Rey agreed to solely use the little light she had conjured in the library, wanting to conserve their supplies as much as possible. 

 

Kylo quickly associated that light with her; sometimes he imagined it emanated from her very soul, his own yearning for it but afraid to touch it. He couldn’t bare to be too far from Rey and was always beside her unless the tunnel was too narrow, then he tracked behind. 

 

He had feared after their conversation in the library at Solitude that she would balk and retreat, rightfully disgusted by his deeds and, at first, it had seemed that it was so. Their subsequent conversations had been civil at best. 

 

But things changed at Markarth, that cursed city he hated for what it kept beneath. 

 

Down in the cave, every moment he wasn’t concentrating on footing or making sure they didn’t go in circles in the dark, he thought back to the moment where she had been in his arms. Twice in a span of minutes he had been closer to her than he had ever dreamed he might be. 

 

She had called him Ben - something he had killed men for - and he hadn’t corrected her. He was raw and helpless before her, unable to resist the siren’s call she inadvertently sang. 

 

He had almost kissed her. 

She had almost let him. 

 

Of course that stupid woman at the inn would take the chance away from him. But perhaps it was a blessing.

 

His and Rey’s connection was perilous - she had reminded him of who he once was, the person he thought he had killed and buried long ago.

 

He must not be weak, he swore to himself. Determined to resist the pull to her, he had stoppered the emotions she brewed in his soul. 

 

Yet despite his efforts she had drawn out everything he had hidden away in himself, had buried so deep as to never be uncovered. He had told her everything she asked to hear. 

 

It was good. To say it to her. She needed to hear it, to know him fully. He thought then perhaps she would call him a monster again and be done with him, put him out of the misery he had felt since realizing she had become more to him than she should have.

 

But Rey surprised him a second time. She wasn’t angry, didn’t look at him in disgust. Instead she gave Kylo patience, a virtue he didn’t deserve to be granted. 

 

Every touch she gave him burned. Something had changed and he knew they both felt it. He found himself listening to her every word, obeying her commands. The strangest part of it all was that he didn’t even try to fight it; instead he embraced it, wanted it.

 

Two days in the dark, alone and separated from the world with her was a gift he hadn’t expected to receive. 

 

They didn’t speak much except for murmured reassurances the other was close in the darkest areas, when even Rey’s little light struggled to project. Kylo found himself seeking those reassurances more often than she did. He needed to know she was still there, terrifyingly dependent on her presence.

 

On the evening of the second day - at least he guessed it was the evening of the second day; after hours upon hours of walking the hard stone hallways and uneven tunnels it was hard to be sure - they made camp in an open cavern carved not by the Dwemer but by a natural underwater spring. The area was lit by glowing mushrooms, common enough in Skyrim’s caves but surprising to see so far underground and the first natural light they had come across. 

 

The small fire Rey conjured to keep them warm spit lively orange flames, making the craggy walls dance with shadows, as if a great feast was happening instead of their meager meal of dried horker meat (a walrus cousin, but meaner) and apples. 

 

It was as they ate, cross-legged on opposite sides of the fire, that he considered all that had happened, all that she had coaxed out of him. Resentment began to build inside him. She hadn’t told him a single word of her past but he had spilled his as if she were his confessor. 

 

He opened his mouth, angry words ready to roll off his tongue but when she looked up at him they failed to fall. Rey’s expression was expectant, curious, unaware he might be angry. 

 

Kylo changed tactics. 

 

“Where… where do you come from?” He asked quietly, hoping she would give a little too. He yearned to know her, greedy for more of her light.

 

Rey quickly looked down at her plate of food, lips pressed together. 

 

Kylo, too, looked down. He took deep breaths, trying to stave off the rage and hurt her silence elicited. Why would she tell him? Why had he thought he deserved it? After all, did she not still consider him a traitor? Someone who couldn’t be trusted? 

 

“I grew up in an orphanage.” She blurted and Kylo snapped his attention back to her. “The Honorhall Orphanage in Riften. My parents left me there when I was a little girl. I didn’t have a family. I _don’t_ have a family.” She corrected herself. 

 

Kylo blinked and clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything, surprised by her sudden candor even though he had asked. He was completely still, fearing that any movement he made would stop her.

 

“I was raised by the guardian there, Unkar Plutt.” She continued, voice thick. “He was terrible. Made me steal things and if I refused he…” she looked away and picked at a stringy bit of meat. Kylo extrapolated what she meant and tightened the hand not holding his plate into a fist. This Plutt fool had hurt her, punished her for doing the right thing. When all this was done Kylo swore to himself that Plutt would die. 

 

Rey breathed deeply and let it out slowly. “He was like that with all of us.” 

 

She went silent, carefully avoiding Kylo’s gaze, like she was ashamed. That would not do. 

 

“It’s not your fault.” He said fiercely. “What he did to you is not your fault. It’s his. And your parents.” 

 

She didn’t reply, lips pressed tightly together, eyes shining though Kylo couldn’t be sure if the shine was tears or an illusion of the fire.

 

After a moment he ventured another question, one he had wanted to ask since their last session in the library at Solitude. 

 

“How do you know how to pick locks?”

 

Rey smiled and Kylo was glad to see some of her early memories were happy. “Someone from the Thieves Guild taught me.” She said. “Her name was… Vex, I think. She caught me trying to break into a merchant’s cart and took pity on me. She really saved my life. I became invaluable to Unkar after that.”

 

Talking about the Thieves Guild seemed to release Rey’s inhibitions and she launched into more stories of her childhood. Kylo only listened. Though he could tell she kept some things back he was grateful nonetheless. He knew, through their bond or just by some other instinct, she was baring herself more than she had with others. He swore he wouldn’t betray that small trust. He would listen and not judge her. Who was he to judge anyone?

 

* * *

 

He looked at her like she was the sun, like she had given him the greatest gift by telling him a few tales from her childhood. Rey had no idea why it thrilled her. She considered it as she lay in her bedroll, listening to the fire crackle and Kylo breathing softly as he slept. She stared at the cave ceiling, sparkling with the glowing mushrooms in a meager imitation of Skyrim’s nighttime auroras.

 

She had never had anyone look at her the way he had, enraptured by her every word and grateful for each glimpse she gave of her life. It wasn’t an especially exciting one, just full of stupid thievery and errands for Unkar, but he had listened in near silence. Rey repressed a smile, guiltily pleased at Kylo’s visceral reaction to Unkar’s abuse. His protectiveness caused a blooming warmth to erupt in her chest that wouldn’t stop growing. 

 

Rey turned over and to look at him. His massive back was to her, facing out into the cavern from where they had come. Was he protecting her even now, in his sleep?

 

She’d had to look out for herself and then for the other orphans her entire life. No one had bothered to look out for her; there had been no one with whom she could share the burden. Even Finn. It was so easy to relent with Kylo, to let him - let those broad shoulders - carry some of that load. 

 

He wanted to. She could feel it. He wanted to carry it. 

 

And she wanted to carry his too. 

 

Her eyelids drooped once, twice, before she allowed them to close, sleep claiming her before the revelation that wavered at the edge of her mind became fully realized. 

 

****

 

A tug on her mind woke her - a gentle pull, like when Gianna used to pluck at her sleeve when she had nightmares and wanted to climb into Rey’s cot. Slowly Rey opened her eyes. Groggy from sleep, she barely registered the figures hovering over Kylo’s prone body. 

 

Stark white, clothed only in loincloths, swaying and gesturing with sharp, black weapons, hissing at each other in their ugly, guttural language. 

 

Falmer. 

 

Terror surged through Rey at the sight of the unholy creatures threatening Kylo, more intense than when the Briarheart had threatened him the week before. She bolted upright with a cry and sent a fire spell in the goblins’ direction. The spell roared from her hand, sending the creatures jumping back with a foul shout. The noise brought Kylo out of his slumber and he instinctively pulled his broadsword out from where it lay under his pillow before rising to his feet, ready to fight even before his mind had caught up to his body.Rey jumped up and joined him. They stood back to back, fully aware they were surrounded by a group of at least ten angry Falmer. 

 

They hissed and banged at their shields. 

 

It was with one swift movement that they advanced. Rey lifted her sword and prepared a new spell. She knew Kylo already had a Shout prepared. She would take what was left. 

 

None would be left standing. 

 

****

 

After the battle with the Falmer Rey and Kylo decided to pack up and move on. There had been only ten then but there were most likely more, probably an entire hive. They agreed it was best to relocate before the rest of the Falmer sought their dead comrades and found their bodies scattered around a campground. 

 

Rey was sorry to say goodbye to their little cavern, but would remember it fondly for its haven and the surprisingly good memory she formed there. 

 

It wasn’t until they had left that cave far behind that she noticed something was wrong. A pulse of pain in her left arm caused her to pause momentarily. She glanced down and the little bauble of light above her head revealed a dark wetness on her sleeve. 

 

“Damn it.” She mumbled. One of the Falmer had struck her. What a nuisance. Rey looked up and saw Kylo’s torch bouncing away. No need to bother him with it. She tried to cast a healing spell but it did not work. Though she thought it strange in light of her skill level, it wasn’t unusual for a mage to be forced to wait to cast one spell if another was in use. The battle had probably used up her residual energy. Though it stung, the wound did not look deep. She could wait until they stopped to try again. 

 

****

 

_Why is it so hot?_ Rey faltered and leaned against the rock wall of the tunnel she and Kylo had entered. The stone was so cool against her heated skin that she groaned as she pressed her cheek against it. 

 

“Rey?”

 

She heard Kylo’s voice as if from a distance; her head was a lead weight and her heart pounded fast and loud, so loud she was sure Kylo could hear, so rapid she thought it would burst. She tried to move, to put a foot forward, but instead fell to her knees. The wound on her arm burned like fire. She felt herself gasping for breath and blindly reaching out for something to hold on to. Her hands found something hard and gripped it tightly. Concerned - no, terrified - brown eyes met hers before she collapsed and drifted into unconsciousness. 

 

“Rey!”

 

* * *

 

Kylo caught the suddenly limp girl in his arms, her hands releasing their vice-like grip on his biceps. The dark tunnel made it difficult for him to see what had happened and her light had gone out when she fainted. Had she been struck? Was there a trap he had somehow missed? He shook his head as he laid her gently to the ground; that couldn’t be. He would have noticed. He turned and pulled out the torch from his rucksack. After lighting it, he held it over her body, and the fear he had been staving off caught him in an icy grip. She was pale as death and shivering violently; beads of sweat trickled down her face. He looked frantically for the source of the attack on her body, stopping at a dark stain on her left arm. Scowling, he jerked sharply at her sleeve and ripped it off, throwing away the scrap. He let out a sharp hiss at what he uncovered. 

 

A cut, not deep but shiny and caked around the edges with dried blood, was revealed in the light of his torch. Black tendrils flowed outward from the wound, trailing over her arm and up her shoulder, reaching for her heart. It could only have been done with a Falmer weapon. He knew from his studies that the Falmer sometimes tainted their weapons with deadly poisons and could only assume that such a poison was rapidly hurtling through Rey. 

 

He cursed under his breath, angry that she hadn’t told him she had been wounded. It had been hours since that encounter and what little there was on Falmer poisons, there was much less on curing them. Though he doubted it would work, he attempted a healing spell. The spell emitted a soft, golden glow from his hand, but the only response from Rey was a weak groan, which confirmed his fear the poison was magic resistant. 

 

He growled in frustration and practically threw the torch down so that he could rummage frantically through his rucksack for any alchemical ingredients he could use to stave off the venom. With each passing second those black vines trickled further down her body; they already covered the entirety of her arm, blackening her fingers in a deadly tattoo. He grunted triumphantly when he found blisterwort. It would do for now. He crushed the ingredient slightly with his fingers to activate its healing attributes and placed it at her wound before wrapping a handkerchief around it to keep the healing fungus in place. She shuddered slightly and he watched anxiously to see if the blisterwort had worked; the black tendrils slowed, but they did not stop. He had bought her a little time.

 

After that he tried forcing her to drink a healing potion. It had no effect. Whatever poison the Falmer had used would not be healed by any above-ground ingredients or brews. 

 

She couldn’t walk. She was barely breathing. His pulse rapid, adrenaline coursing through him, he lifted her over his shoulders as gently as he could, draping her across his back. He would carry her differently but he needed his hands free to hold the torch and his weapon. She weighed almost nothing, her body lean with muscle, and he had no trouble kneeling to lift the torch. Her pained groan gave him pause when he straightened and his throat constricted as he fought back the emotions which threatened to consume him. 

 

“You’ll be alright, Rey.” He swallowed thickly and ground his teeth. “I won’t let it take you.”

 

She would live. He would make sure of it, even if he had to tear down all of Blackreach.

 

****

 

A day a half passed and Rey’s condition worsened. The blisterwort continued to stave off the poison, but Kylo knew it would not last. Her sleep was fitful and she could only drink a little water at a time. Kylo could not sustain carrying her; should they be attacked again he was at a handicap and his body was beginning to protest the added weight on his back and lack of sleep. He needed to find someplace safe for them soon.

 

As the second day approached its end, the Dwemer hallway he had entered earlier came to a stop before a large brass door. Kylo slowly knelt and gently laid Rey against the wall. He pressed an ungloved hand against her forehead and cursed at the heat which emanated from it. Her pained whimper pierced him to his soul but set fire to his tired limbs. Gritting his teeth he pushed up and stepped to the door, thrusting it open with such force it slammed into the wall on the other side with a loud clang that echoed through the chamber. 

 

Kylo was halted by what lay on the other side of the door. A massive, open cavern that went for miles appeared before him. Giant, glowing mushrooms and other fluorescent florae bloomed along the path, against the walls, everywhere. Under his feet was a stone road, obviously planted by the Dwemer. A gentle mist blanketed the immediate area and he could hear water rushing nearby. Off in the distance he could see Dwemer structures, their usual round, bronze-domed guard towers, but something else as well. A fortress, rising black and imperious through the mist. 

 

“Blackreach.” He murmured with a mix of awe and relief. “We found it.” 

 

Rey groaned again and he remembered himself, what he still had to do. Blackreach may be found but it didn’t matter if he couldn’t save Rey. 

 

He rushed back to her side and gently lifted her, one arm cradling her back, the other looped under her legs. Her head fell against his shoulder; the sweat from her brow soaked his shirt. 

 

With a determination he hadn’t experienced before, Kylo strode back through the door and onto the Dwemer road. If he followed it he might find a structure they could rest in. Maybe even something to help Rey. 

 

Sure enough, not twenty yards from the door the mist pulled back to reveal a small Dwemer cottage. He made his way to it and kicked the bronze door open. It was dusty and disheveled, but there was a stone bed and a fireplace. Good enough. He hurried to the bed and placed Rey there, then carefully laid his bedroll under her head and tucked his blanket around her body. She was completely pliable, limbs limp and heavy. He checked her arm - the tendrils were still weaving their way to her heart, but the blisterwort had not let it go far. 

 

So far the Divines had been merciful.

 

But he still needed to heal her and for that he had to go find ingredients, loathe as he was to leave her. 

 

“Rey,” he knelt beside the bed and pressed a hand to her flushed cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. “Rey, I have to go find something to help you. I won’t be long.” 

 

Her chapped lips parted, a word forming against them, but her voice was barely a whisper and cracked as she tried to formulate her thought against her fever. Kylo quickly lifted a canteen to her lips. Though she didn’t drink much it was apparently enough. “ _Ben_.” She shook as she said his true name.

 

“I’m here.” He replied instinctively. “Rey, I’m here. But I have to go. You need medicine. I promise I won’t be gone long.” He reached down and grabbed her hand tightly in his, praying for a sign she understood through her fever. A tiny pressure from her fingers signaled what he thought was comprehension. With more relief than he could express, Kylo jumped up and ran out of the cottage, but not before shutting the door and placing a ward against it. The ward wasn’t the strongest, but it would do until he could return to her. 

 

Though skilled in alchemy, Kylo was disadvantaged underground. Hehe did not have a sample of the poison nor any idea what ingredients lay in Blackreach which might help. He was moving forward with the assumption that the Falmer had used plants from that area in their concoction and he could do the same for the antidote. If he found the right ones. 

 

Kylo slid down a bank toward the river which he had heard before; life-giving plants usually grew along riverbanks on the surface. Perhaps it was the same below. The river was a raging, wild thing, lapping at the banks with a fervor he hadn’t expected from an underground water source. There were various mushrooms he recognized, none which could help him, and others which he didn’t know that might only make things worse. After a few minutes of frustrated scrounging he cursed loudly and threw a stone into the water, but slipped on some moss and went hurtling down the embankment. 

 

He tumbled into the water in a mighty shower but was immediately sucked beneath the roiling crests. He fought against the violent currents, clawing for the surface, and gasped desperately when he finally breached it. Everything opposed him: the weight of his clothing, his sword, and the water all struggled against his efforts to return to shore. 

 

The currents tugged him under again and he felt his lungs fill with water. He couldn’t see, the natural darkness of the cavern and the murkiness of the water blinding him to his surroundings. Time and again just as he was within reach of the surface he was pulled under, further, deeper into the arms of the river. His lungs burned and his muscles - already exhausted - grew tired struggling against the river god which claimed him. 

 

Kylo felt himself giving in, tempted to let the river take his sorry life. It wasn’t worth much anyway. A single thought ran through his head as the water churned around him, dragging him closer and closer to Oblivion: Would anyone miss him?

 

_Ben._

 

Rey.

 

Rey was still waiting. She needed him. She would die if he did not survive and find her a cure. 

 

With the greatest effort he had ever extended, Kylo launched himself to the surface, kicking with all the strength he had left. The river, evidently tired of the fight, spit him up against a rock outcropping. Kylo coughed out a lungful of water and gasped for air, sucking in that sweet, sweet oxygen which soothed his blazing lungs. He gripped the rock he had fallen against tightly, shaking with the effort to stay put as the river continued to churn around him. 

 

He was only feet from the riverbank. A single Shout could get him there but he didn’t know if he had the strength. 

 

The least he could do was try. 

 

_“Wuul Nah Kest!”_

 

Kylo hit the pebbled bank hard, landing on his side, and rolled toward the river. He barely managed to skid to a stop before being embraced by his watery nemesis again. He lay on his back, chest heaving and muscles aching as he tried to regain enough strength to stand. His clothes were soaked and clung to his body heavily. His eyelids closed, exhaustion the next enemy; Kylo wasn’t sure he could win that fight. 

 

A soft hum, just loud enough to keep him from sleep, forced Kylo to open his eyes. It was annoying. The same kind of annoying as… He sat up with some effort and turned his head left and right. 

 

There, on his right, sprawling at the edge of the water, was Nirnroot. That terrible humming weed which had plagued Kylo’s slumber on many an expedition had somehow found its way underground. 

 

Except this plant wasn’t like the Nirnroot on the surface. For one, it was scarlet red instead of blue-white. For another, the hum was slightly different. This plant played a more melancholy melody. 

 

Kylo wracked his brain for facts on Nirnroot. The stuff on the surface was detrimental to health. But maybe… maybe this plant would be the opposite. It was already vastly different in color and song. 

 

He struggled to his feet and stumbled over to the plant. There was only one way to find out if his theory was correct. He had to eat it. 

 

One leaf should suffice. 

 

Kylo plucked one of the scarlet leaves and lifted it to his lips. He hesitated for a split second before quickly stuffing the leaf inside his mouth and chewing it roughly. 

 

A second later and he wasn’t dead. In fact, he felt the heaviness in his limbs disappear and his exhaustion fade. Kylo plucked the Nirnroot from its place and hurried up the bank. He realized the river had carried him some miles from Rey and cursed loudly. There was nothing for it but to follow the river back. At least he might be able to find more Nirnroot. 

 

Consumed with his mission, Kylo did not notice the shadow rise from the fortress to his south. 

 

****

 

A journey that had taken the river mere minutes took Kylo an hour. The only consolation was that he had gathered three more Nirnroot bushes. None of it would matter if she was dead, he despaired. 

 

With a force of will he shook that thought from his mind. If she were gone he would know. He would feel it. 

 

The little stone cottage appeared as he rose over a hill and Kylo nearly feel to his knees in relief. There it stood, a more delightful sight than he had ever seen, a beacon in a sea of darkness. 

 

He picked up his pace and ran to the door. With a flick of his hand the ward (undisturbed, he was grateful to note) disappeared and Kylo entered the cottage. 

 

Rey was on the bed as he had left her, but lay so still he feared the worst, despite the assurance he had given himself earlier. 

 

He knelt at her side and gingerly felt her forehead. It was damp and hot and she shivered at his touch.

 

“Rey, I’m back. I’m sorry I took so long.” He whispered, smoothing a hand over her hair. He received no reply, not even a moan. The only sign she was alive was the stuttered movement of her chest as she breathed. 

 

Kylo cursed the river, cursed the Falmer, cursed Alduin, and everyone and everything that had brought he and Rey to this point, to the place where she had been hurt. 

 

Not bothering to change from his soggy clothes Kylo laid out his alchemy tools and set to work. He looked about for anything to mimic what he needed. An alchemy table sat in the corner opposite of the bed. The Divines were indeed being merciful that day. 

 

Minutes later he had concocted what he hoped was a cure from the Nirnroot. The smooth, heated mixture of Nirnroot, blisterwort, and water was his only hope. 

 

Returning to Rey’s side, Kylo ever so gently tilted her head back and placed the bowl of liquid against her lips, urging it into her mouth. She spluttered a little, unable to swallow easily on her own, but Kylo was patient and managed to get most of the potion down her throat, then took the rest and made a poultice for her arm. 

 

After that all he could do was wait. He stayed at her side, watching her closely. If she died nothing would keep him from destroying every single Falmer in Skyrim and everyone else he blamed for her injury. No one would stand in his way. Not even the Emperor. 


	20. Chapter 20

_It was hot - too hot. Her body was burning from the inside out, like she had swallowed the sun and it was imploding within her. A kaleidoscope of images filtered through her mind, darkened at the edges like they had fallen out of the fire that ripped through her._

 

_Visions of people she knew - Finn, Rose, Leia - hurting, dead, crying out to her. She couldn’t reach them, couldn’t save them. Betrayal and despair filled their eyes as a giant black dragon ripped them apart…_

 

_She stood in the middle of a Forsworn village, surrounded by the bodies of the slain. The people she had slaughtered. Her shoes were soaked in scarlet. The Briarheart appeared before her, arm outstretched…_

 

_Yet another stood before her, the bandit she had killed in Riverwood, her first kill, drenched in blood. His blood. She looked down and saw her own hands stained with it, holding the sword she had just sunk into his stomach, heavy with gore._

 

_“You’re a murderer.” The bandit hissed and thrust his own weapon toward her gut._

 

_She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. As the tip of the bandit’s sword touched her belly, he disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Instead of the barrow she was swooping above a dark fortress amid a fluorescent forest. Cool air caressed her, easing the fever. She looked up but saw only darkness - no auroras, no stars. Below her a river wove its way through stone and brass buildings._

 

_She felt him_. _He was in the river - dying, drowning. Giving up. No no no. He couldn’t leave her. She couldn’t be alone again. She cried out to him._

 

Ben.

 

_But her voice was a whisper. He couldn’t hear her above the roar of the water. Despairing, Rey was sucked back into her body. The infernal heat transformed to icy cold and trapped her and she was enveloped in darkness, alone; she couldn’t breathe._

 

_Completely alone._

 

_An eternity passed. As she was ready to give up and let herself be taken by the dark, a soothing voice pierced the veil and warm liquid was poured down her throat, melting the ice which coated the burns of her fever._

 

_The shadows receded and she slipped into a deeper slumber._

 

****

 

The first thing Rey was aware of was a heaviness against her stomach. She forced her eyes open but snapped them shut against the brightness of the room. After a moment she tried again, blinking her eyes open and gradually adjusting to the light. The room wasn’t bright at all, she realized. Only a fire illuminated the small space she found herself in; her eyes were simply unused to any light - she must have been asleep for a long time. 

 

It looked like a cottage. She couldn’t remember entering a cottage.

 

The weight on her stomach shifted and Rey glanced down. Kylo was there, asleep, kneeling beside her stone bed, his head nestled against her ribcage. He looked so tired, even in sleep, but she didn’t know why. 

 

“Ben?” She was surprised by how hoarse her voice sounded and how it hurt to speak, as if she hadn’t in days. That small effort was enough to exhaust her, but Kylo lifted his head before she could drift off again, awakened by her whisper. 

 

“Rey!” His eyes were wild as they roved over her face. A second later he rose and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the sleeve down on her left arm and examining it closely. Whatever he saw there must have relieved him because his entire body sagged and he pressed his forehead to her breastbone. Acting on instinct, Rey raised one hand and sifted her fingers through his hair. “I thought I was too late.” He mumbled and she imagined his lips pressed to her skin. “You’ve been unconscious for days. I thought you were lost.”

 

_She_ was the cause of his worry. _Why?_ Rey struggled to remember. An instant later she recalled the pain lancing through her arm and collapsing in the cave. Flashes of other images entered her mind - memories. He had carried her. Cared for her. 

 

But she also remembered the terrible things that had appeared to her. She had been so afraid. Then she remembered that tug on the strange bond between them which had broken through her fever and allowed her to see him in the river. He had been prepared to die, to leave her alone. He _had_ left her alone. 

 

“Why’d you leave?” She croaked, tears stinging her eyes. She remembered struggling to grip his hand, as her trembling fingers now gripped his hair, and make him stay but he ran anyway. “You left me.”

 

Kylo raised his head, not enough to break her hold, and stared at her, eyes wide with horror. “No, Rey, no. I had to. I had to find something to help you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but I had to. I came back. I came back.” One of his hands cradled her cheek and she shivered at his touch, too warm against her chilled skin but welcome nonetheless. He was sincere; it was written on his face as plainly as the runes a Word Wall. 

 

“I dreamt of things. Of my friends. Of you… of Death. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t save you or them. I killed them.” Rey started to shake uncontrollably, the hand in his hair dropping to his shoulder. She knew she wasn’t making sense, everything she saw in her dreams blurring together in a kaleidoscope of horrifying colors. Whatever was in that Falmer poison had clearly given her a brain a fever which caused the hallucinations, but they had seemed _real_. She could still feel the warm, sticky blood coating her hands, could feel the metallic tang on her tongue. 

 

Kylo pulled her into his arms and pressed her into his chest. He smelled like river water and dirt but underneath the grime was _him,_ a grove of fir trees in an autumn wind. “I’ve never felt so alone.” She whimpered. 

 

His arms tightened around her; she felt him tuck his chin against her shoulder. “You’re not alone.” 

 

Rey pressed her cheek against his chest, his strong heartbeat a drum leading her back to the living.

 

“Neither are you.” She murmured and closed her eyes. She felt him shudder and release a held breath. Her arms rose to wrap around his waist and she slept. 

 

 

****

 

Rey slept most of that day. When she was awake Kylo was nearly intolerable. He would not let her get up except to relieve herself and even then only when she insisted it was absolutely necessary. She would admit she was weak after the illness but she was getting stronger each minute, thanks in part to her Dragonborn nature but also to Kylo’s expert alchemy skills and the potion he had concocted. Alchemy was an art Rey didn’t have the patience to learn, but was grateful he did. 

 

That evening, a full week since leaving Calcelmo at Markarth (Kylo told her she had been unconscious for three days), Rey woke from a nap to find Kylo gone. Panic flashed through her for a moment but she calmed herself. He wouldn’t leave her. He’d promised. After she’d managed to suppress her alarm, she focused on what had urged her to wake up: she was parched. 

 

She hadn’t gotten up on her own yet but she was tired of laying there, helpless to get even a canteen of water. She scrunched her nose in determination and sat up on the stone bed, swung her legs off, and planted her feet on the floor. The fire which had burned steadily in the hearth since she had woken from the illness had warmed the floor enough so that she wasn’t shocked when her bare feet met the stone. 

 

She wiggled her toes, relishing in even that small movement. With a relieved sigh she stood and was pleased to discover she could stand without Kylo’s support. Rey took a tentative step forward. Her legs wobbled a little but that was to be expected after days of relative non-use. She noticed her clothes were looser; her tunic draped over her torso like a curtain and her trousers hung around her hips instead of at her waist. Her stomach growled and Rey nearly fainted with hunger, plopping back on the bed as her head spun. 

 

_Damn the Falmer._

 

“What are you doing?” She turned to see Kylo standing in the entry of the now open hut door. He dropped the his pack at the door and rushed to her side. Rey huffed out frustrated a breath. 

 

“I was getting up,” she gestured at herself and silently cursed her shaking hand. “And then I got faint… I’m hungry, that’s all.”

 

His brow furrowed. “Why are you getting up at all?”

 

Rey sighed. “I was thirsty,” she explained in resignation. A guilty look passed over Kylo’s face before he fetched the canteen across the room. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he handed it to her. Rey gulped down half the water inside before she was satisfied. “You were asleep. I should have left it beside the bed. I thought I would be back before you woke.”

 

“It’s alright,” she assured him with a half smile. “I had just gotten up when you came in.” He nodded and Rey glanced behind him at the pack by the door. “What’s that?”

 

Kylo followed her gaze and sighed. “Dinner.”

 

His sour reply didn’t dissuade Rey’s stomach from rumbling again at the mention of food.

 

With another sigh he picked up the pack and hauled it to the hearth. As he passed the bed Rey’s nostrils were hit with a horrific stench and she gagged, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. 

 

“What is that?” She gasped. 

 

Instead of replying he opened the bag. Out tumbled a spindly Chaurus, the giant bugs which the Falmer favored as pets and war-dogs. They could spit poison ten feet and blind a warrior before finishing the kill with their massive pincers. Rey gaped at the two Chaurus now laying on the hearth. 

 

“I’m not eating Chaurus.” The look Kylo gave her said that it was that or nothing. Their supplies were low and they still needed to find their way out of Blackreach. 

 

Rey groaned and slumped back against the bed, her appetite forgotten. 

 

Chaurus it would be. 

 

********

 

_He was lying still, so, so still, blood pouring from the wound on his beautiful face. A great shadow rose over his body, wisps of black smoke surrounding it. Rey slowly raised her head and pure terror froze her in place as empty black eyes peered back at her. When it was sure she was watching, the head of the creature swung back and with a roar plunged, its great maw widening, and snapped Kylo in two with a sickening crunch that reverberated through Rey’s body._

 

She woke with a strangled cry, tears flowing down her cheeks. 

 

A body leapt from the floor and Rey heard the ring of a sword being drawn. Kylo twisted right and left, looking for a threat. When he realized nothing was there, he sheathed his sword and turned toward her. 

 

“What happened?” He sounded dazed.

 

Rey looked at him with wide eyes, nearly disbelieving he was really there. She slid across the bed, a desperate need to touch him - to ensure he was really there, overwhelmed her. She reached out for him; just brushing her fingers against his shirt would be enough. Something, anything. 

 

Her breathing was ragged, as if she had run for miles. What had that poison contained, to leave her with such horrible nightmares even after it had been dispelled from her body?

 

Kylo must have seen seen the desperation in her expression. The lines on his face deepened with concern as he settled on the edge of the bed, taking her outstretched hand. Rey’s fingers tightened around his hand like it was a lifeline and she took a deep breath in relief. 

 

“What happened?” He repeated softly. He pressed his free palm gently to her forehead. There was no fever. She could tell him that, but his touch felt… good.

 

Rey nodded. “I saw you,” she whispered hoarsely. “I watched you die.”

 

His face hardened and she thought he was angry but then he pulled her hand to his lips. It wasn’t quite a kiss but a caress, proof he was there. 

 

“I’m alright. I’m right here.” He murmured against her knuckles. His eyes remained on hers. 

 

Rey closed her eyes. She wasn’t thinking of that shadow anymore. It was just him. But at the moment when sleep was about to reclaim her, Kylo removed his hand and terror swept through her again.

 

Both of her hands reached out and grabbed his retreating arm. 

 

“Don’t.” She gasped, voice betraying her anguish. “Stay.”

 

He stopped, frozen. His eyes flicked to her hands, still gripping his arm like it was the only thing keeping her sane. Maybe it was. Rey didn’t relent. For whatever reason his touch kept the nightmares at bay and she needed it. She wiggled her body closer to the wall from which the bed was carved, making room for him. 

 

But he hesitated. Rey shivered, the sweat on her back cooling in the dank air. “Please.” She whispered. 

 

Whether it was the word itself or the plaintive tone, he relented with a nod and slowly settled himself down beside her, stretching out on his back. She let go of his hand only when she was sure he would stay. There wasn’t a lot of room; Kylo was twice the size of whoever the bed had been designed for and Rey was squashed between him and the wall. 

 

Kylo must have realized this because he turned on his side, his back to her so he could face the door.

 

“Is this alright?” He whispered. 

 

Rey nodded before she remembered he couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she murmured and scooted forward. She needed contact and his broad back was so inviting. When she made contact with his back she felt him stiffen but he didn’t move otherwise. Rey rested her cheek between his shoulder blades, his warmth seeping through his tunic to her skin.

 

She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, releasing the breath in a long sigh as she drifted off.

 

There were no more nightmares that night. 

 

****

 

She woke up nestled against something solid and warm, a strong arm circling her waist. Rey opened her eyes to find herself facing the stone wall of the hut instead of Kylo’s back. When she glanced down, she saw it was his arm wrapped around her waist. He had turned at some point and spooned her, tucking her against his chest. His chin rested against her shoulder; she could feel his breath, warm and steady, on her neck as he slept. A strong desire to see him tempted Rey to disrupt the early morning peace. Ever so slowly, she shifted to face him, successfully avoiding removing his arm. She almost breathed a sigh of relief because he didn’t wake. 

 

His features were soft in sleep, boyish, blemished only by the scar gifted by Alduin. At a different time Rey would have thanked the dragon for marking him so, but now she experienced rage so powerful she felt the urge to Shout and bring Alduin to them. 

 

Pushing past the anger, Rey focused on his beauty marks, scattered in constellations she wanted to connect with kisses. It was all she could do not to run a finger down his aquiline nose or across his plush lips, open a fraction and emitting muted snores. Rey pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. What a surprise. The great Kylo Ren, leader of the Knights of Ren and favored by the Emperor, snored. Too much noise pollution at their other camps had prevented her from noticing before, but now it was quiet and he was too close to escape her scrutiny. 

 

His brow furrowed, a reaction to whatever dream he was having, and he tugged her closer. Rey involuntarily gasped at the movement, which must have woken him for she felt his arm tighten around her waist then loosen as he lifted his head. 

 

Groggy brown eyes opened and peered into hers. 

 

“Good morning.” Rey breathed. Never in her life did she think she’d ever say ‘good morning’ to a man in her bed. Owned by Unkar and sworn to his service she had not entertained thoughts of being wife to anyone. For the first time in her life Rey found herself realizing it was possible. She was free. 

 

Maybe… maybe she could have that life. The thought flashed across her mind that she wanted it. Wanted it with him. 

 

He realized he was holding her in an intimate position and immediately lifted his arm from her waist, scooting back on the bed as far as he could without falling off. 

 

“I’m sorry.” He gasped. “I didn’t realize… it must have happened in my sleep…”

 

Rey, in a move bolder than she thought herself capable, shook her head and pulled his arm back across her waist, shuffling her body back against his and sliding her own arms around him. She had grown used to his warmth and wasn’t ready to let it go. Kylo didn’t seem to know what to do at first but when she sighed in contentment he relaxed and tightened his hold, embracing her against his chest. 

 

“I’m not ready to get up yet,” Rey murmured, closing her eyes, relishing every second.

 

“Did you have anymore nightmares?” He rumbled, his words vibrating through Rey’s body in a pleasant wave. They reminded Rey he was really there, not some figment of her fevered mind.

 

“No.” 

 

She felt a gentle pressure against her temple - his lips pressed against her head in a kiss. 

 

Rey lay with him for another hour, pressed to his chest, her legs tangled with his as she dozed, cocooned in a blanket of warmth and safety in that ancient Dwemer hut. It was just them and Rey wanted it to be that way forever. Just them. 

 

But forever would have to wait. Saving the world came first .


	21. Chapter 21

They spent one more night in the hut to allow Rey to regain enough strength to travel. One more night of sharing a bed because of Rey’s nightmares. Rey worried she might become dependent on his presence in her bed, but swiftly brushed it away. They were tied together. It wasn’t dependence. It was fate. 

 

They set off after breakfast ( some of the leftover Chaurus) toward the massive black towers in the south - Blackreach fortress. About half an hour after their departure, on the crest of a hill, Rey stopped and looked back. The hut was still visible, though small; smoke trailed from the chimney from their long-dead fire. There she had been wrapped in his arms, safe for the first time in a long while. There it had been just her and Kylo. She hoped one day they could have that again. She promised herself she would have that again. 

 

The trek had them crossing the river multiple times and Rey didn’t miss how Kylo shied away from the edge of the bridges, careful to stay in the middle of the road. When she asked him why he brushed it off, saying it wasn’t important. An image of him struggling against muddy water flashed through Rey’s mind and she wondered but didn’t press the issue. 

 

Their journey was, much to their surprise, uneventful. There was not a single Falmer about or even any Chaurus. Rey thought there would have something to impede them but nothing appeared. It was eerily quiet, the churning river the only sound disrupting the silence, echoing off the dead stone buildings.

 

A few hours after leaving the Dwemer hut the ebony castle loomed ominously above them. They hadn’t rested since leaving and Kylo’s strides had been long. Rey hadn’t complained. She wasn’t about to be more of a burden, but as they slowed to view the massive structure, she realized how the journey had ebbed her strength. 

 

She stopped, panting, and leaned against a giant, fluorescent mushroom. An idle thought passed through her tired mind that, if they had time, she would like to explore this beautiful place. Perhaps come back with Kylo when all was said and done. 

 

Kylo walked a few steps ahead of her before noticing she wasn’t following. He hurried back to her side and braced his hands on her waist to steady her, though how he knew she was dizzy she couldn’t fathom.

 

“Are you alright?” He asked, brown eyes wide. 

 

Rey gave a dismissive wave and forced herself to straighten up. His hands did not move.

 

“I’m fine.” She insisted. “We’re here, anyway.” She gestured to the fortress. It was stark black, with parapets and high towers from which Rey was sure she could see the entirety of Blackreach. A single drawbridge connected the castle from its moat-surrounded island, flanked by what appeared to be golden statues. She had no idea what the castle was constructed from but it must have been a secret Dwemer material. There was no other building like it in Skyrim; not even any of the other Dwemer buildings in Blackreach compared. “Have you ever seen anything like that?”

 

Kylo glanced at the fortress and shook his head. “No.” He turned his attention back to her. “We should rest awhile before going further. You’re pale.” 

 

“So are you, asshole.” Rey mumbled. She was already guilt-ridden for being a burden, she didn’t want to delay them further. “We’ve been underground for a week.”

 

“And you’ve been sick for a good half of it.” Kylo crossed his arms over his chest. “You haven’t fully recovered yet. We rest.”

 

“I’m fine!” Rey took a step forward but wobbled on her still-weak legs and stumbled. Kylo caught her - his arms wrapping around her in a flash - before she hit the ground. 

 

“We. Rest.” He growled and Rey nodded, her stubbornness giving way to the miles they had walked. 

 

Kylo helped her sit against the giant mushroom before he settled himself down beside her. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out some leftover Chaurus and handed it to her. Rey grimaced but took the slimy meat anyway. It was protein. Maybe, she thought, if she pretended it was something else, eating it would be more bearable. 

 

So she imagined the Chaurus was a tender piece of elk, spiced and roasted for hours in a smoke pit of the finest wood. 

 

It did not help. 

 

She gagged at the first bite; her awareness that it was the only food they had kept her from spitting it out. The taste was even worse now that she was recovered from her fever, her taste buds no longer dulled. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Kylo said, guilt in his tone. “There’s nothing else down here. No fish in that damned river.” He jerked his head to the east - or where Rey supposed east was; no sun made it difficult to be sure where the cardinal directions were - toward the river.

 

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” she replied matter-of-factly. “We don’t have another choice. We just need to find what we came for and get out of here. Although,” she glanced around, “I wouldn’t have minded exploring this place… it’s magnificent.”

 

Kylo scowled as he replied. “It’s cursed.” He stretched out his long legs and Rey noticed the swirls of dirt on his black boots and the mud that caked his trousers. The memory of flying over the river while she was ill flickered through her mind. “I hate it here.” He added, working his mouth. “There’s nothing but the damned Falmer. No light. No food.” He glanced at her. “You almost died.”

 

Rey looked down and picked at a loose stone, prying it from the ground. She didn’t like being the cause of the pain in his eyes. “You almost did too.” She murmured, deciding to tell him what she saw, to acknowledge what he had gone through to save her. “In the river.” 

 

“What?” She felt him shift next to her, turning to stare at her. “How do you..?”

 

“While I was unconscious, while you were gone…” She glanced up in time to see guilt flash across his face and shook her head to dismiss it. “While you were gone, I was dreaming - those terrible dreams. But, for a moment, I wasn’t. I was… flying.”

 

“Flying?”

 

She nodded. “I was soaring above this place. Like a dragon. I could feel wind on my face. It was such a relief from the heat…” Her eyes closed, a phantom breeze caressing her cheeks. “Then I saw the river. I-I _felt_ you drowning. I called to you.” She heard his sharp intake of breath and opened her eyes to find him staring at her in awe. “You were dying and then… then I returned to that hut - to my body. I didn’t know if you’d survived until I woke up.”

 

Silence fell between them and Rey feared he would think she was crazy, that he would say it was just some fever dream. But she knew, deep in her bones, that it had been real. She picked at the dirt again, eyes downcast as she waited for his reaction. 

 

“I heard you.” He whispered. Rey whipped her head up, eyes wide and heart beating a wild tattoo. He’d heard her. But his eyes were sorrowful. “As shameful as it is, I had given up. I’d failed. But then I heard this whisper. You saying my…” he paused. Rey knew why and it grieved her that he couldn’t say his true name. He no longer considered himself Ben Solo, hadn’t taken ownership of that name in years. He had yet to destroy his demons. “You needed me. I didn’t think I had the strength to pull myself out of that river, but I did it. Because of you. For you.”

 

_My enemy_ , Rey thought as she looked at him, at the way his brown eyes saddened as he gazed back, like he knew what she was thinking. _You’re supposed to be my enemy_.

 

It was almost laughable. Only a couple of months had gone by since she had left Poe at Whiterun. Since she had left the Resistance to fight Alduin with her sworn enemy. She had hated Kylo. Hated having to be trained by him, be in the same room as him. But he was the only familiar thing in a strange land, familiar in a way beyond mere acquaintance, she realized as she thought back to those first weeks at Solitude. He had been a comforting presence, despite his status as her opposition in a bloody conflict. Perhaps it was their shared Dragonborn natures. Perhaps it was Fate. Like they had been in a thousand stories and would be in a thousand more, twined together for eternity. 

 

She reached up and brushed her knuckles against his scarred cheek. He closed his eyes at her touch. He’d risked his life to save her. In that moment she knew she would have done the same for him. 

 

****

 

It took another half hour before Rey could convince Kylo she was well enough to continue. They made their way to the stone bridge, the only entrance to the fortress they could find. The pair of golden statues, eight feet tall at least, stood menacingly on either side of the gate, which stood open. Either the gate had fallen apart over the centuries since the Dwemer disappeared or the two statues - metal men in Dwemer armor with menacing weapons as appendages - were its protection. Indeed, if Rey’d had her druthers she would have turned on her heels and walked away. 

 

But they were only statues. Statues carrying huge axes. 

 

She and Kylo slowed their steps and stopped at the threshold, a few feet from the statues. Rey’s instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong. 

 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” She glanced at Kylo, who was eyeing the warrior on his side suspiciously. 

 

“Yeah, me too. But we don’t have another choice.” As he spoke he pulled his broadsword from the sheathe on his back. At his cue Rey drew her own sword and prepared a spell in her other hand. The magic drained her energy faster than it usually did but she said nothing. Whatever was ahead of them she could handle. 

 

Moving as one they walked over the invisible line dividing them from the fortress entrance. They both paused and waited once they crossed, expecting and ready for anything. 

 

Thirty seconds passed and Rey almost relaxed her spell but as she turned to Kylo the ground shuddered beneath them. Metal on metal groaned and creaked behind them. Rey and Kylo twisted around in tandem to face the new threat, weapons raised.

 

“Divines!” Rey gasped, her readied spell sputtering out. The two statues had come alive. Gears cycled inside their golden frames and steam blew out from their joints. Each step the machines took was like an earthquake. Calcelmo had mentioned something like this - that the Dwemer had successfully created a machine army. Rey had thought he was hyperbolizing his idols’ power. 

 

Apparently he hadn’t. 

 

The giant metal warriors each took a step forward with clubbed, but sturdy, feet toward Rey and Kylo, who retreated. 

 

Rey surveyed what lay before them: the courtyard of the fortress. It was completely empty except for abandoned brass wagons and fallen stone. Like any fortress or castle there were stairs along the wall which lead to parapets overlooking the courtyard. Higher ground.

 

“Rey!” 

 

She turned at Kylo’s cry, just in time to see and roll away from the giant axe which swung for her head. Her tired body protested the movement. Rey groaned and stumbled to her feet only to dodge another swipe from the metal man. Kylo was having a similar experience, only he was able to move faster than Rey, easily avoiding the blows, twisting around them like a dancer. Rey muttered a jealous curse as she tumbled, the axe splitting the air behind her as it whipped past her neck. They were being pushed back into the courtyard, right out in the open. 

 

There was something odd about it. Rey was slow, too slow for some of the blows not to have hit her. As the metal warrior attacking her took another swing, Rey dodged to the left and made to sprint toward the stairs but was blocked by the warrior’s axe cleaving the ground in her path. He stepped up to her and she stumbled and fell backward, narrowly avoiding the sharp end of a broken wagon wheel. She thought she was going to meet her end, the Dwemer machine striding to her, axe raised. But strong hands gripped her under the arms and yanked her up seconds before the warrior’s weapon grazed the place she had fallen. Kylo tugged her to him, one arm around her waist, the other holding his sword high, and moved them back a few more steps. There was nothing but obsidian walls behind them. Nowhere for them to go. 

 

Rey did the only thing she could think of and spat Unrelenting Force at the two machines as they converged on she and Kylo. Her Voice bounded off the walls of the fortress, shaking the earth, and pushed the metal men back a few yards, but they were not dissuaded. The Dwemer machines stomped forward, swiftly making up the lost ground. Rey realized how foolish her attempt had been. The Shout had sapped what little strength she had; it was effort to remain standing and she sagged against Kylo’s chest. 

 

“Shit.” Kylo tightened his grip around her. Rey knew he wouldn’t give up but she could no more help than lift her hand. 

 

They were done for and it was her fault. 

 

The two warriors closed in, axes above their heads, but when Rey thought they were going to deal the killing blows, they stopped. The loud mechanical noises ceased and they stood at attention, as they were on the bridge. 

 

Neither Rey nor Kylo moved, afraid that if they did the metal warriors would resume their attack.

 

A second later a roar split the air. 

 

As one they looked to the ebony ceiling thousands of feet above them. A shadow moved across it, blotting out any fluorescent plants that clung to the stone ceiling. 

 

“How in Oblivion is there a dragon down here?” Rey heard Kylo mutter. He threw the pack he still carried to the side and Rey forced herself away from him, pushing his arm off, before she did the same with hers. Her legs quavered and her arms shook from holding her sword, but she wasn’t going to let Kylo battle this dragon on his own. They were in for a real fight. She only prayed that those two metal warriors wouldn’t join it. 

 

“Do you think it’s Alduin?” She asked breathlessly. As impossible as it might seem, their enemy was ancient and they didn’t know what knowledge it might hold. What secret ways there might be to this ancient city. 

 

Before Kylo could answer another furious roar rang throughout the reach and the dragon dove, growing from a tiny figure that could have been a bird into a massive form that would make the Emperor’s finest warship look like a child’s toy. He stopped short of landing in front of Rey and Kylo. The two Dragonborn dove away, buffeted by the wind as the great beast hovered in the air. 

 

His scales were metallic bronze and a black and beige pattern decorated his wings and tail. Rey thought he was beautiful, the most beautiful dragon she’d ever seen - a vein of gold hidden in an ebony mine. Golden eyes glared down, evaluating them. 

 

_“Dovakhiin._ _Why have you come to my domain?”_ He hissed. 

 

This one could speak. Like Alduin. 

 

Kylo and Rey glanced at each other but neither responded to the dragon’s demand. Rey wasn’t sure _how_ to respond. She was reeling that the creature hadn’t immediately tried to kill them. 

 

The dragon rumbled low in his chest and landed, shaking the ground as he lowered his enormous mass to the dark earth. 

 

_“I am Vulthuryol, this is my land, and you will answer me.”_ The dragon was named, also like Alduin. Were they allies? Rey didn’t know. But if they didn’t answer he would surely kill them. 

 

She took step forward. “We’re here to find Dragonore and the Dragonrend Shout.” She called and Kylo put a warning hand on her arm. She shook him off. If the dragon wanted to talk instead of rip them apart, then she would oblige it.

 

The dragon lifted his head, as if surprised. Rey waited for it to answer. Kylo was behind her like a wall, legs spread in hissignature defensive stance, hands gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. 

 

_“So,”_ the dragon said at last. _“Alduin has returned and you seek his end.”_

 

“How did you know…” Rey trailed off, gaping at the dragon. 

 

The dragon tilted his head, the slitted pupils of his golden eyes narrowing. 

_“I was there when my brother swore his revenge on your kind, one thousand years ago.”_

 

When Alduin was sent through time by the Blades. Rey shivered in the presence of a creature so ancient. 

 

Vulthuryol lowered his head to be at Rey’s eye level. She felt Kylo shift behind her, edging closer, ready to strike. Rey reached back and put her hand against his, pushing his raised weapon down. The dragon didn’t even cast his eyes in Kylo’s direction. 

 

_“My brother,”_ Vulthuryol purred. _“He was sent here - to this time. By the Blades, long ago.”_

 

“We know.” Rey replied. “We saw the mural at Sky Haven Temple."

 

The dragon snorted and turned its head, blowing on the metal guardians. They came to life. Rey and Kylo prepared themselves to fight but the metal men only pivoted and returned to their posts on the bridge. 

 

_“So you have. Or you would not be here.”_ The dragon returned his attention to Rey and Kylo, lowering his body and tucking his wings against his back with a roll of his scaly shoulders. The movement was so like a cat’s that Rey almost smiled. _“The Blades were very thorough. They did all they could to prevent another Dragon War and ensure Alduin’s defeat.”_

 

The Dragon War. Rey searched her brain, the term familiar. Ah, yes. In the histories of Alduin and the Blades. They had called their struggle the Dragon War.

 

“The Dragon War,” she whispered and fear struck her as she looked up at the ancient dragon. “You fought in it.” He must have slaughtered thousands of humans for Alduin. 

 

_“Yes. But not in the way you think.”_ The dragon snorted. _“Allow me to explain, little one. Alduin ruled over Skyrim with iron claws, enslaved the people, forsaking his destiny as World Eater. He desired to be worshipped by the humans as a god. My brother was merciless in his tyranny._

 

_“In time his cruelty extended to his own kind. He killed any dragon who questioned him or disobeyed and demanded blood sacrifices from the humans. My other brother, Paarthurnax, and I… we were his lieutenants. When Alduin’s cruelty laid waste to Skyrim and its rivers ran red with the blood of your kind,Paarthurnax was beseeched by the goddess Kyne to teach the humans the Thu’um, what you call the Voice, to defend themselves. My brother shared his power with one human, the most bravest among them. The first_ Dovahkhiin _.”_

Their gift, Rey and Kylo’s gift, had been given by a dragon. And no less than Alduin’s own brother. Rey’s head swam at the revelation. 

 

“What about you?” Kylo snarled, apparently either unsurprised or unfazed at the discovery, which is more than Rey could say for herself. “You say your brother helped Skyrim but what about you?” The tension rolled off his body in waves - like a snake coiled to defend itself, prepared to strike its attacker. 

 

Vulthuryol’s eyes saddened. _“I was loyal to Alduin yet. It was not until my brothers fought and Alduin nearly ended Paarthurnax’s life that I realized how far he had fallen. I prevented the killing blow and joined Paarthurnax.”_ He shook his mighty head. _“It was a great and bloody war. I killed many of my brethren for the humans and once it was seen we were their allies, more joined us. The Blades were formed, founded by the Dovahkhiin and three warriors. His dearest friends.”_

 

“He was killed.” Rey interjected softly, the terrible scene from the mural before her mind’s eye. 

 

The dragon nodded solemnly. _“My brother and I thought the power of the Dovah in human hands and our support would be enough. We were wrong. Alduin was too strong. The Dovahkhiin was killed but, unknown to Paarthurnax and I, they had another plan. They used the Elder Scroll to send Alduin through time.”_

 

That corresponded with the temple mural. But…

 

“You’re not there.” She blurted. Vulthuryol tilted his head in question. “On the mural. You and your brother are not on it.”

 

A grunt came from deep in his spiny throat. _“No. We were kept secret. It was our request. We wanted to disappear. After the Blades sought the help of the Dwemer, Paarthurnax and I went our separate ways. He remained above ground, assisting the humans, and I came here to guard the Dragonsore. I have been waiting this millennia for the ones who can wield it successfully against Alduin. You, as it happens.”_

 

Rey and Kylo glanced at each other. The Dragonsore was real but Vulthuryol had said nothing about the Shout. 

 

Rey stepped forward, a scowl on her face. Enough history. She didn’t need anymore explanation. She wanted the ore and the Shout to put an end to this too-long conflict. 

 

“What about Dragonrend?” She demanded. “You have the ore, where is the Shout?”

 

_“Did not the Blades tell you?”_ Vulthuryol’s eyes narrowed. _“How is it you are here if the Blades did not tell you? You said you were at the temple.”_

 

Silence fell. Rey closed her eyes.  Kylo stiffened behind her. His sins had found him out . What would Vulthuryol do if he knew that the Dragonborn had killed the Blades? Rey refused to take the slight chance he would be merciful. Kylo was too important.

 

“The Blades are gone.” She responded flatly. “Dead in a civil war that has split Skyrim in two. You have missed much in your time down here.”

 

The dragon growled, teeth bared, and Rey retreated, the result of her lie plain in the dragon’s face - fury and sorrow. Vulthuryol saw the movement and relaxed, but the grief remained in his eyes. A pang of guilt went through her for omitting the truth, but she hadn’t had a choice. The situation was tentative at best. If Vulthuryol knew who had killed the Blades, he might not be willing to let them live. 

 

_“My brother has the Shout under his protection.”_ Vulthuryol answered, his voice low. _"The Blades thought it best to separate the keys to Alduin’s defeat. And my brother and I agreed to protect them. Payment for our crimes against the humans.”_

 

“Thank you,” Rey murmured. She glanced behind her at Kylo and while his face was carefully blank, his eyes betrayed the guilt and despair for what he had done. She was tempted to reach back and comfort him but this was not the time, nor did she know if she should. He had to wrestle with his deeds and their consequences on his own. 

 

_“You must go.”_ Vulthuryol said, voice booming with urgency. _“You must take the ore and go to Paarthurnax.”_

 

As Rey was about to ask where the ore was, the dragon closed his eyes and blew onto the ground in front of Rey and Kylo. A pile of unrefined ore appeared beneath his breath, dark like ebony but no light reflected off its surface. No, it was as if it swallowed the light, could swallow the sun itself. There was enough for a skilled blacksmith make weapons for the both of them. 

 

It was Kylo who moved and grabbed their packs from where they had discarded them. He knelt at the ore and spared a questioning glance at the dragon. Vulthuryol lowered his head in permission and only then did Kylo begin to heap the ore into the packs. Rey knelt beside him and helped, picking up her own pack despite his protest. He couldn’t carry both. She wouldn’t let him. 

 

When they had finished and stood again before Vulthuryol, bags heavy on their backs, the dragon raised his head and appraised them. 

 

“Thank you, Vulthuryol,” Rey said. It was a daunting to think of traversing those dark tunnels again, but there was no other path. Perhaps the dragon could alleviate that challenge a little. “Can you tell us the fastest way out of here?”

 

_“The portal.”_ He replied dryly.

 

The Dragonborn stood in stunned silence.

 

“There’s a portal?” Kylo managed to ask, finding his voice faster than Rey.

 

The dragon laughed, his maw opening and fire sparking from his throat. _“There is indeed. It will take you to my brother, Dovahkhiin.”_

 

He turned and Rey watched him face the dark stone wall of the keep. He roared at it, his Shout shaking the earth. Rey winced and covered her ears. Before Vulthuryol an undulating mirror shimmered into existence that revealed blowing wind and snow. A blast of cold air hit Rey and she shivered. 

 

_“Go, Dovahkhiin. Defeat Alduin and bring peace to this land.”_ Vulthuryol stepped aside to allow them through the portal. Rey licked her lips and found she couldn’t move her feet. Portals were a strange magic that terrified her and never in her life had she thought she would need to go through one. 

 

A calloused hand gripped hers tightly and she glanced down to find Kylo linking his fingers through hers, as if he had sensed her fear. His eyes were focused on the portal but his hold was reassuring. He stepped forward and she went with him without a second thought. But just before they crossed the threshold, Rey stopped, thinking of Calcelmo, and whirled on Vulthuryol. 

 

“What happened to the Dwemer?”

 

The dragon snaked his head down and peered at her. She could see humor in his golden eyes. “ _That is a tale for another time, little one.”_

 

At the same time he spread his wings and rose into the air, Kylo pulled her through the portal.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW! Did not mean for such a long break between chapters, but between writer's block and life this chapter got away from me. It's a little transitionary but I think y'all will enjoy it. My favorite dragon makes an appearance. ;)
> 
> I hope those of you who have played Skyrim like my rendition of him!
> 
> Translations for the dragon language will be in the end notes. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> \---  
> EDIT  
> \---  
> I reworked the last few paragraphs at the end of this chapter. I think it works better and will flow more nicely into the next chapter.

Rey shot through the portal like an arrow, the magic winds whipping around her as she flew through the space between realities. The journey lasted only a second but within that second Rey was sure rested an eternity.

 

Her body was thrown across the portal threshold and into a fortunately placed snowbank alongside Kylo. A gale roared that blew ice and snow in swirling ribbons around them, covering the frozen mesa in white. 

 

The peak of the Throat of the World. The highest point in Skyrim. And the coldest. 

 

As soon as she landed beside Kylo, Rey was shivering uncontrollably from the sub-zero temperatures. Neither of them were dressed for the weather on the mountain and Rey was acutely aware of it, grown used to the warm, damp atmosphere of the Dwemer halls.

 

“Damn it!” Her teeth clacked together and she sat up, wrapping her arms tightly around her body in a futile attempt to stave the chills. The snow was already soaking through her clothes and making the chill worse. Beside her, Kylo shot up and shook the snow from his hair. He took one look at her and turned, sifting through the snow for what Rey assumed was their packs.

 

He found the packs and tugged them free of the snowbank before rifling through them. Rey would have helped but it took all the energy she had to keep from freezing and she had no idea what he was looking for.

 

A moment later he pulled a blanket from one of them and threw it around her shoulders. It didn’t stop the shudder completely, but the woolen blanket shielded her enough from the wind that she thought she could control it. 

 

“Thank you,” she managed to say through her clacking teeth. He nodded. She noticed he wasn’t as affected by the cold, the only clue he suffered at all the tinge of pink coloring his ears. “Aren’t you c-cold?”

 

He settled back on the snow. “Nord,” was his curt reply. “We’re adapted to the cold.”

 

Rey hadn’t considered her origin before but now that she was dying from the cold and he evidently wasn’t the realization she wasn’t Skyrim-born became painfully clear. She scowled and tugged the blanket more tightly around her, cursing her wretched parents for not only abandoning her but leaving her in the place with the harshest winters in all of Tamriel.

 

He opened his mouth to speak again but shut it abruptly with grimace. 

 

Rey frowned at him curiously and was about to question him when she heard what had disturbed him: the chanting of a Word Wall. 

 

But it was different - out of sync, the words a strange dialect she couldn’t quite decipher. The song bore a weight on Rey’s soul that almost hurt and she hunched into herself, trying to shut out the noise.

 

Kylo stood and pivoted to find the source. 

 

“There.” 

 

Rey stumbled to her feet and turned in the direction Kylo was pointing. The wind shifted and revealed the Word Wall, seemingly made from the same stuff as the fortress in Blackreach. Upon it were runes as on any other Word Wall, but these glowed differently, a bastardization of the _Dovahzhul_ Rey knew now as a second language. 

 

Atop the wall here was a massive statue of a dragon, perched with his head hanging over the glowing words. The wings were raised slightly, as if the creature was in the process of taking to the sky. From where Rey stood she could make out the the details - scarring, missing scales, a tear here and there in the wings. The artist had taken extra care to model the figure as realistically as possible.

 

She didn’t want to get closer her but her feet dragged her forward anyway, the Shout a siren’s song in a minor key, tantalizing and harrowing at the same time.

 

Kylo was beside her in a second. “Wait.” He put a hand on her arm. “Where’s Vulthuryol’s brother?” 

 

That’s right. There was supposed to be another dragon. 

 

“Paarthurnax.” She recalled, and, as if a magic spell had awakened it, the statue atop the Word Wall stirred, wings unfurling to their full length, and shook his head.

 

The two Dragonborn jumped back, the Wall forgotten, and drew their weapons, instinct working over rationale. 

 

_“Ah, visitors,”_ the dragon purred. He spread his wings so that they balanced his bulk on the edge of the wall. _“And come through the_ miiraak _no less._ Valokein dovahkiin _. Welcome.”_

 

Rey and Kylo slowly lowered their weapons, the realization dawning that this must be Paarthurnax. Amazed to be speaking to yet another dragon that didn’t want to kill them, Rey stared openly at him. He wasn’t like his brothers in color or spirit. He was stone-gray and weather beaten, not at all like the rich gold or ebony scales Vulthuryol and Alduin sported. Long bony spikes protruded from his back and ivory tusks grew from his chin. Rey lost count of how many. 

 

He seemed older somehow too, even older than Alduin. His gray eyes showed a depth of memory that Rey couldn’t fathom and were so weary-looking that her heart ached for him. 

 

“You’re Paarthurnax.” She said. The dragon inclined his head. “Vulthuryol sent us here.” 

 

Paarthurnax’s eyes lightened at that, as if a part of his burden had been lifted. “Zu'u los lig _. My brother is well. I have not seen him in many centuries. Many_ iilah.”

 

His voice was deep and slow and melodic, full of knowledge if they only took the time to learn. 

 

“Why are you using the _Dovahzhul_?” Kylo asked, his tone too harsh. Rey put a hand on his arm and shook her head admonishingly. It was the dragon’s tongue; he could speak it if he wished. But Paarthurnax did not take offense. 

 

“Krosis, dovahkiin. _I have long been here, with little…_ tinvaak…- _ah, conversation - with humans. Except for the_ Mudozaan _, the Greybeards, but they visit very seldom now.”_

 

“The Greybeards?” Rey gawked. The Greybeards knew of Paarthurnax? She had spent weeks in that fortress meditating and conversing with the monks and none of them - not Luke or Arngeir - had bothered to mention that a dragon lived at the peak of the mountain, a dragon with half the secret to defeating Alduin. A sense of betrayal came over her and she clenched her fists, cheat heaving in anger, her mind half made up to march down the mountain and have it out with her former teacher. 

 

Kylo had been right. None of them had wanted to help her, but control her. 

 

Warm pressure alerted her to Kylo’s hand on her shoulder, his presence a reassuring wall beside her. She didn’t have to look at him to know his expression would be grim. 

 

Paarthurnax tilted his head and a rush of breath came out of his nostrils, icing in the freezing wind. 

 

_“They did not tell you of me, Dovahkiin?”_

 

“No,” Rey replied, a bitter snap to her voice. “They didn’t. Alduin has returned but the Greybeards have not helped us.” 

 

“ _Hm, and what of the_ dovahdaan? _The Blades,”_ he lifted off the wall in two flaps of his wings then settled on the snowy earth before the two Dragonborn. Rey and Kylo had to jump out of the way as he landed, shaking the mountain as his mass settled into the snow. “Krosis,” he repeated kindly. _“Apologies, little ones. Tell me of the_ dovahdaan _.”_

 

“They were killed,” Rey replied slowly, again taking the responsibility to answer for Kylo. “By the Empire.” It was true, in a sense. 

 

Paarthurnax’s eyes narrowed and it was there Rey could see the resemblance to his brother Kyloeath the earth. That same intelligence as slitted pupils sought the truth. 

 

“Dovahkiin, _it is not good to_ nok, _to lie.”_ The dragon peered at Kylo. _“What is your name, slayer of the_ dovahdaan _?”_

 

He knew. Paarthurnax knew what Kylo - what Kylo - had done to the Blades. The freezing air was a warm breeze compared to the chill that solidified her blood now. Would Paarthurnax kill Kylo? Would he kill them both?

 

“Kylo Ren.” Kylo answered defiantly and Rey winced. She had hoped for a different answer. She shifted uncomfortably and noticed he stiffened. At least that was something. 

 

_“Your_ kiindah faan _is different, I think.”_ Paarthurnax growled. _“You killed the Blades nonetheless. Betrayed your soldiers. Betrayed your_ ragnavir. _Why should I give you Dragonrend,_ Loaan - _deceiver?”_

 

“Because I am Rey of Riften, and I am also Dragonborn!” Rey stepped in front of Kylo. “Despite his past actions he is here helping me. I need him. You should know better than any other that Alduin cannot be defeated by one Dragonborn alone.” 

 

Paarthurnax kept one eye on Kylo even as he focused on Rey. She could feel his warm breath flutter her clothes and cancel the chill in her bones. Strangely, his breath did not smell rancid as she thought it might. The few other dragons she had killed had smelled of death and decay. Not Paarthurnax. Nor Vulthuryol. 

 

_“You are his champion, Rey_ dovahkiin _?”_ He asked, amused. _“Is he of such value? Do you trust this_ nokin - _this liar?”_

 

Rey was silent. Did she trust him? She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His expression was carefully blank but there was a tremor under his eye that betrayed his anxiety as he met her gaze. 

 

Whether it was through the strange bond they shared or simply her own intuition, Rey could feel Kylo’s anguish. She couldn’t forget he had killed the Blades. 

 

But after the betrayal of his uncle and at the orders of his emperor in the midst of war. Had she been in his place, would she not have done the same? She understood his loneliness. None of it excused his actions but there was the chance he grieved them.

 

The vision she saw at the Silver-Blood Inn at Markarth had been her hope this past week, had lead her trust him when everyone else would tell her she shouldn’t. Perhaps it was only a dream. But every other vision she’d had of him had happened, albeit in the past. But if that was possible, then why couldn’t she see the future as well?

 

“I trust him.” She said over the wind, looking at Kylo. He looked stricken by her words and stared back at her in wonder.

 

Paarthurnaax sat back on his haunches and observed them for a few moments. Then he lifted his head and Shouted into the air: “Lok Vah Koor!”

 

The wind and snow ceased, the icy air warming just enough that Rey no longer shivered. 

 

But it wasn’t just the weather that changed. A new Shout entered Rey’s soul. Was it accidental? She didn’t believe so. Dragons as old as Paarthurnax didn’t give away their knowledge accidentally.

 

_“Day and night I listen to the wind,”_ Paarthurnax said, snaking his head back down to his visitors’ level. _“I hear many_ zul _carried upon it from all reaches of Skyrim_. _Yours is the truest yet, Rey_ dovahkiin _.”_ He turned to Kylo, who stiffened at the attention. _“The choice will be upon you soon,_ goraan gein, _to choose who you are. Your destiny is yet to be determined.”_

 

The dragon leapt into the air and perched himself back upon the Word Wall, leaving it free for Rey and Kylo to approach. 

 

_“This_ Zaan _\- Shout - was made by humans and is meant for humans alone. It will tear the dovah from the sky, forcing him to the_ gol _\- the earth. The effect is temporary. You must make your strikes count.”_

 

A powerful Shout indeed. Rey marveled at the stone carving which called to her so eerily. She eyed the wall suspiciously, unsure if approaching it was such a good idea. But Kylo apparently had no scruples. He strode forward and touched the wall. As soon as his palm kissed the cold stone, the wind picked up and the chanting crescendoed then faded.

 

Paarthurnax hummed as he twisted his head toward Rey. _“Your turn, little one.”_

 

“Isn’t one of us having it enough?” Rey asked, still hesitant and cringing at the song in her head. Kylo had returned to her side but said nothing even as Rey looked at him for reassurance. He appeared to be deep in thought. 

 

The dragon shook its head. _“There is no balance if only one of you possesses the_ Zaan _.”_

 

Rey glanced at Kylo who returned a quizzical look. He didn’t know what the dragon meant either - but, it was better to do as Paarthurnax said than argue. With a deep breath like she was about to dive under water, Rey approached the wall and repeated Kylo’s gesture, hesitating just for a moment before letting her palm touch the stone. 

 

Absorbing the human-designed Shout wasn’t as strange as she had thought it would be, although it was different. It was… familiar yet unfamiliar. Rey understood it but not in a natural way like the other Words. There was a dark power that emanated from the Shout which disturbed her more. Whatever magic had been placed in the Shout to twist the dragon language must have come at a heavy cost - and involved, she suspected, some daedric power. 

 

Rey couldn’t help the shudder that passed through her as she hurried back to Kylo’s side. If there had been any other choice, she would not have taken that Shout. 

 

She looked up at Paarthurnax to see him considering them sympathetically. 

 

_“It is time for you to fulfill your destinies,_ dovahkiin. _”_ He said, unfurling his wings. _“Go to Whiterun, to the Skyforge. There can your weapons be forged.”_

 

_All roads lead to Whiterun,_ Rey thought wryly. She thought about the long walk down the mountain and how long it would take then gasped, covering her mouth as she looked at Kylo. They would have to pass by - if not through - High Hrothgar. He must have realized it when she looked at him, because his eyes widened and something like fear flickered across his expression. 

 

“I’m not going back there.”

 

“Kylo, we don't have a choice.”

 

“No.” His voice took on a dangerous edge, one she hadn’t heard directed at her since that day at White River crossing when she’d first seen him.

 

Rey’s emotions battled between frustration and sympathy. There was no other way. They didn’t have a magic portal this time. He would have to face his uncle. They could face him together. 

 

“I’m here.” She said gently, tempering her exasperation. 

 

His worked his mouth, avoiding her gaze. “No.” He shook his head. 

 

“How do you propose we get back?” Rey exclaimed, allowing some urgency to slip into her tone. She gestured toward the precipice of the plateau they stood on. “Jump and hope for the best? Fly?”

 

_“If you wish to bypass High Hrothgar,_ dovahkiin, _I will help you.”_ Paarthurnax unfolded his wings. _“I can take you to Whiterun.”_

 

Rey and Kylo gave each other a surprised look. “You would do that?” Rey asked. “Why?” 

 

The dragon hummed. _“There is no time to waste,_ dovahkiin _. Alduin has been busy while you have been underground. We must move on swift wings to stop him.”_ Paarthurnax lifted himself into the air, flapped his mighty wings twice, sending an eruption of snow through the air, then descended onto the plateau in front of Rey and Kylo. He shook his head as his body settled onto the ground. _“Climb upon my back,_ dovahkiin _, and I will show you for what the_ dovah _live.”_

 

Rey noticed there was enough space between the spikes on his back for she and Kylo to sit, squeezed tightly together. A spike of adrenaline went through her as she considered what they were about to do. First a portal and now flying upon a dragon’s back. Never in her life had she imagined so many firsts in such a small span of time. 

 

Somehow she was less nervous about the flight than she had been about the portal. In fact, she wasn’t nervous at all. She looked at Kylo. 

 

“This does solve the problem.” She said. He gave a curt nod, his jaw tight. 

 

“It does.” He replied. “As long as he doesn’t drop us.”

 

A chuckle resounded from the dragon and Paarthurnax snaked his head to Kylo. Rey saw Kylo go still and his hand reached for the hilt of his sword. She put a hand on his arm and he slowly lowered it, but his chest heaved and he kept his eyes focused on Paarthurnax. 

 

_“If I wanted to kill you,_ dovahkiin, _I would have already.”_

 

Rey wasn’t sure that was as comforting a thought as Paarthurnax did. 

 

“The last time I was lifted into the air by a dragon, I was left with this.” Kylo snarled, pointing to his face, and Rey closed her eyes, ashamed she had forgotten how he had been mutilated - nearly killed - by Alduin. She slid her hand down his arm to slipped her fingers through his, gripping his hand tightly in what she hoped was a comforting way. She was rewarded with a squeeze in return. 

 

Paarthurnax lowered his head in what seemed to be contrition. _“The sins of my_ zeymah _are many,_ dovahkiin. _I will not repeat them.”_

 

For a moment all were silent. Rey knew Kylo was struggling with the two choices before them: go back and face the uncle who tried to kill him or relive another day he nearly died. 

 

_I’m with you._

 

She said it in her head but he looked at her like he’d heard her aloud. Rey didn’t know what to think about that - it couldn’t be he actually heard her. No. He must have felt it somehow, maybe in a subconscious squeeze of her hand or a minuscule narrowing of her eyes. 

 

He nodded and Rey took it as consent. 

 

“Thank you, Paarthurnax,” she didn’t take her eyes from Kylo as she spoke. “We’ll go with you.”

 

****

 

There was no room between them on Paarthurnax’s back. Rey was flush against Kylo’s chest, his hands resting lightly on her waist, nowhere else for them to go. Their packs were securely looped around one of Paarthurnax’s spikes. 

 

_“Are you ready, little ones?”_ Paarthurnax rumbled beneath them, reverberating through Rey’s body.

 

“Ready to die?” Kylo muttered. 

 

“We’re ready, Paarthurnax.” Rey said, ignoring Kylo’s comment. The dragon huffed out a breath, smoke billowing from his nostrils and his wings extended. Rey watched with bated breath. She squeezed her legs to keep her balance and grabbed onto the long back-spike in front of her with both hands as Paarthurnax launched into the air. An abrupt tightening at her waist nearly knocked the breath from her. She looked down and saw Kylo’s arms linked around her and glanced over her shoulder to check on him. He was paler than usual, his jaw locked, his eyes focused on Paarthurnax’s neck. Rey risked her own balance to put a hand on his forearm. His eyes drifted to her and she smiled encouragingly. 

 

It took a few minutes for Paarthurnax to reach his desired height but then he coasted on the air, his wings outstretched to catch the currents and keep them all afloat.

 

Rey took the opportunity to look around and see what no other human being ever had. 

 

They were in the clouds. Mist covered Rey’s face in droplets as Paarthurnax flew through the pillows of moisture. He heaved his wings a few times and they broke through the clouds, higher than Rey thought even dragons could fly. She could feel every muscle beneath Paarthurnax’s hide move to support his mass through the air. 

 

Tears sprang to her eyes as Rey drank in the surroundings - or lack thereof. Nothing lay below them except the clouds, a roiling mass of grey and white like an ice-covered ocean. Before them was the horizon and the sun sinking beneath it. As the sun made its descent,a burst of color set the clouds ablaze with oranges and pinks, the shades mixing into coral and spreading to calm the raging waves beneath them. Rey looked up and gasped at the sight above her. The sky was midnight blue - untouched by the sun - and stars twinkled above them as Skyrim’s aurora’s began their nightly dance in front of the red-orange planet that was their planet’s neighbor. 

 

The wind of the the current Paarthurnax coasted on ruffled her hair and clothes gently and Rey released her other hand from its position on the dragon’s spike to feel it through her fingers. She let the breeze lift her hand as it lifted Paarthurnax’s wings and she smiled.

 

No walls or evil men or destiny lay before her. Just air and sky. The deepest sense of freedom overcame her and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. Never before had her soul rejoiced in such a way and she never wanted to land.

 

_“We’re approaching Whiterun. Hold on, little ones.”_ Paarthurnax announced abruptly, bringing Rey’s attention back to the present just as the dragon roared and dove into the clouds.

 

Rey gasped and grabbed Paarthurnax’s back spike in a white-knuckle hold. The wind tore past her, pulling tears from her eyes and biting into her skin as Paarthurnax plunged toward the earth, his wings tucked into his body.

 

If the dragon’s sudden dive wasn’t enough to knock the air from her lungs, the way Kylo tightened his arms around her waist nearly did. Then he hid his face against her shoulder and she almost laughed except that she needed the spare room in her lungs for breaths. 

 

While the supposedly fearless warrior clutched her like a frightened cat, Rey wanted to see everything. She didn’t care about the wind or cold as it raced by and bit into her skin. As Paarthurnax burst from the clouds and twisted he opened his wings to catch a wind current and sent Rey’s stomach into a somersault. A few seconds later thedragon righted himself and wind filled his wings, bringing their descent to a slow. 

 

Rey burst into giddy laughter as the earth approached. Her entire body shook so much from adrenaline that she could barely hold on, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

 

She managed to grasp her bearings enough to see wisps of smoke rising from the thatched roofs of Whiterun’s tiered city, thousands of feet below them. Paarthurnax was circling the city, drifting toward an empty field to its east. 

 

He landed a few minutes later, jolting his passengers as his bulk settled to the earth. Once he’d folded his wings, Rey and Kylo slipped off his back and collapsed on the ground. Rey’s legs were too numb to stand so she lay staring at the sky she knew she’d dream about for the rest of her life. Kylo was in a similar state, except he sat up nearly immediately and scrambled away from Paarthurnax as fast as he could.

 

The dragon shook his head and lumbered toward them. Rey slowly sat up to greet him. 

 

“Thank you,” she whispered as Paarthurnax lowered his head to her. She touched his scaled snout with the palm of her hand and the dragon closed his eyes.

 

_“_ Hi los valokein _._ Hi mindoraan nu _, little one,”_ he rumbled and opened his eyes. _“_ Aal Talos kos voth hi - _may Talos be with you. Should you ever have need of me, Shout my name. I will hear you.”_

 

Then he leapt into the air and ascended with a roar that shook the earth. Rey watched him leave and hoped she would get another chance to soar with him.

 

“Rey?” Kylo’s voice came to her over the wind whispering through the stalks of tall grass. She forced her eyes away from the sky and saw him standing over her, hand outstretched. Her palm slid over his and he pulled her to her feet, steadying her when she wobbled on shaky legs. 

 

She grasped onto his arms for balance, fingers digging into the strong muscles of his biceps. 

 

“Are you alright?” He asked. His hands steadied her at the waist.

 

Rey nodded, though she wasn’t sure it was the truth. She couldn’t stop thinking about that moment in the sky. Ideas had planted themselves in her mind that she couldn’t quickly forget. Being her own person, not beholden to anyone’s political agenda or war. To have Kylo by her side - free as dragons in flight to help their people, not be pawns in some ridiculous power struggle that destroyed more than it saved. The Empire needed to be stopped. She had been silent too long. As soon as they returned to Whiterun, she would send a message to the Resistance.

 

A horn echoed over the field and broke through her thoughts. Kylo’s hands dropped to his sides and they both turned in the direction of the city. The dusk light revealed multiple armored figures running toward them - the soldiers of Whiterun. They had heard Paarthurnax, of course, Rey thought. Holdo’s people were come to defend the city. 

  
“We should go and meet them.” She made for the forgotten packs, slumped on the ground in a tidy pile where Paarthurnax had dropped them. He followed her, silent. Rey leaned down to grab hold one of the sacks but before she could he had swooped them both onto his shoulders. She would have admonished him but as the adrenaline of the flight with Paarthurnax faded she didn’t have the energy for much more than making sure she stayed upright. 

 

He noticed and took her hand, for which she was grateful. She wasn’t sure her feet could have carried her forward had he not. As they walked forward to meet the Whiterun legion, Rey considered the ease with which she had accepted his hand and how strange it was that she didn’t find it strange at all. Deep in the earth their closeness had been necessary, even desired. She remembered the thoughts she’d had while watching him sleep.

 

An attachment had formed to him that thrilled and terrified her. A deeper connection lay between them than she’d ever had with anyone, but a shadow still hung over it that she couldn’t ignore now they were above ground.

 

They were rejoining the rest of the world. They had the tools they needed to defeat Alduin. After that lay a choice for the both of them. Rey didn’t know if Kylo would make the same decision as she, but hoped more than she’d ever hoped for anything else that he would. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Miraak_ : portal
> 
> _Valokein dovahkiin_ : welcome, dragonborn
> 
> _Zu'u los lig_ : I am pleased
> 
> _iilah_ : moons
> 
> _krosis_ : apologies
> 
> _kindaah faan_ : birth name
> 
> _ragnavir_ : family
> 
> _zul_ : voices
> 
> _goraan gein_ : young one
> 
> _zeymah_ : brother
> 
> _Hi los valokein_ : you're welcome
> 
> _Hi mindoraan nu_ : now you understand


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Stitch voice* Haaaaaai
> 
> I'm alive and so is this fic! I'm excited to say I think I've worked through my writer's block (which involved a lot of plotting issues which I have fixed now I think*) and I should be able to get chapters up more regularly! Thanks to all my patient readers! I hope you like this next installment! 
> 
>  
> 
> (also, while Rey still calls him Ben, I've switched back to Kylo narratively. Apologies for any confusion.)
> 
> *see end note for details

When Rey and Kylo joined the soldiers - and after a brief explanation as to why there had been a live dragon so close to the city - they were escorted to Dragonsreach and were brought before Jarl Holdo in the keep’s Great Hall. 

 

Whiterun’s leader greeted them with surprise but was nonetheless hospitable. At the sight of the taller woman in her pristine violet dress with its intricate silver brocade Rey became painfully aware of her own state. Bloody, dirty, hair whipped by the wind and her clothes still damp from the snow. She must have been a sight. 

 

Kylo was no better, if not worse since he had taken a journey through a river. 

 

“You must be exhausted,” Holdo exclaimed and beckoned her steward - a bald man with a sour expression - forward. “Proventus, have rooms prepared for them with baths and ensure fresh clothes are provided.” 

 

The steward nodded once and set off to relay the orders. 

 

“Thank you, Jarl,” Rey bowed and nudged Kylo to do the same. He begrudgingly followed her lead.

 

Holdo smiled at Rey when she straightened. “It’s good to see you again, my dear. I hope your arrival means you have been successful?” There was a desperate edge to the jarl’s voice and Rey tensed. 

 

“What’s happened?” She asked, dreading the answer.

 

The jarl settled back into her throne and passed a hand over a face that Rey could see now was covered in tired lines. “Ever since you disappeared from Markarth the dragon attacks have increased, not only in frequency but ferocity. Entire villages have been scorched to ash all over Skyrim. A great black dragon has been reported at many of the sites. By the few people who managed to survive.” Holdo finished grimly. 

 

A wave of nausea washed over Rey and she swayed on her feet. They’d been gone too long.

 

She’d failed. She had already failed. 

 

“Rey.” Reassuring hands gripped her shoulders from behind. “This isn’t your fault. Or mine. It’s Alduin’s.”

 

There was a time when she would have spat in his face for even speaking to her but now she was comforted, those other days like a different age altogether. Rey closed her eyes and breathed deeply, unconsciously leaning into Kylo’s touch. When she opened her eyes she noticed Holdo peering at her curiously, the Jarl’s grey-blue eyes flickering to where he touched Rey. Defensiveness swept over Rey in a chill that rivaled the winter wind and she straightened up but didn’t push Kylo away. Holdo could judge all she wanted. She didn’t understand and Rey didn’t have the energy to make her. 

 

The Jarl quickly resumed a neutral expression. “But you have succeeded?” she asked again. “Our people cannot hold up much longer. Tell me that you have found a way to kill Alduin.” 

 

“We have.” Kylo interjected sharply, stepping in front of Rey, who winced. Regardless of Rey’s own feelings about the woman, they were still in Holdo’s house, and she wouldn’t appreciate his abrasiveness. “But tonight is not the time to discuss it. Rey was injured a few days ago and she's still recovering. We’ll discuss Alduin after she rests.”

 

The Jarl pulled her shoulders back and raised an imperious brow in a look that would have cowed lesser men. Rey could see why she had been elected Jarl. “Master Ren. I am deeply sorry to hear that and do not wish for Rey to suffer any longer, but you forget what is at stake.”

 

“Ben,” Rey whispered, touching his arm. “She’s doing her duty.” 

 

He looked down at her and pressed his lips together. “My apologies, Jarl.” He said, though he wasn’t looking at Holdo. Rey nodded her thanks and returned her attention to Holdo. 

 

Jarl Holdo considered the pair of them for a moment then sighed. “You must forgive me as well, Rey. Lord Ren is right. Your wellbeing is of the utmost importance. Please, go and refresh yourselves. Join me for dinner and then we can discuss your plans.”

 

Proventus reappeared from the shadows at that moment, somehow returning to the room without Rey having noticed. He whispered something in Holdo’s ear to which she nodded and then he beckoned Rey and Kylo to follow him. 

 

Rey made sure to bow again to Holdo before she went after Proventus. Kylo did not and she didn't make him this time. They climbed the stairs behind the steward in silence. Rey’s limbs were like lead weights and she swore if they weren’t securely attached to her body they’d fall off. 

 

Never had she been more exhausted. The entire week - their journey to Markarth, the time in Blackreach, her injury, the flight - was crashing down on her all at once and she didn’t know if she would make it to the bedroom much less promised bath before she collapsed. 

 

“Your rooms, my lord, my lady.” Proventus paused in front of two rooms which stood across from each other. He opened one and gestured for Rey to enter. She looked at Kylo, loathe to leave him. He stood beside the door to the other room. 

 

“I’m right here.” He said, voice rumbling to her soothingly. She nodded and only then did she pass Proventus into her room. 

 

****

 

Hours later, in a twist of cruel fate, Rey lay awake, unable to sleep despite her exhaustion. 

 

She stared at the beamed ceiling, counting each whorl and swirl in the wood twice. The fire in the room dimmed to embers as the night wore on but she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes. Her thoughts kept going round and round like the rings above her, returning to dinner and a certain pair of brown eyes. 

 

The meal had been a mostly silent affair after she and Kylo had given an abridged explanation of their journey to Holdo. After that the food was presented and Rey and Kylo were too busy filling their empty bellies to think about polite conversation with their host. The food consisted of the most succulent meats, the softest breads and cheeses, and the sweetest mead Rey had ever tasted. The meal probably didn’t compare with the dinners she’d enjoyed in Solitude, but after three days of nothing but Chaurus innards, the food was like a gift from the Divines own table. 

 

As full as she’d ever been in her life, Rey had thought for certain that as soon as her head hit the downy pillow of her four-poster bed she would sleep but that had not been the case. Instead of rest she was agitated, tossing and turning as she hadn’t since leaving Unkar’s. 

 

Was it fear that her fever-driven nightmares would reoccur?

 

Perhaps it was too quiet, too safe - the bed too comfortable. She’d gotten used to rocky ground and the wind whispering in her ear. In Blackreach she’d slept on a damned stone bed to utter silence. But with a certain body beside her… 

 

Did she miss _him_? 

 

At dinner he’d kept looking at her, darting glances she had assumed were to ensure she was alright. While she appreciated his defense of her in the Great Hall, Rey was not a helpless child to be coddled. After it happened a fourth time she had been prepared to chastise him but a servant had laid particularly juicy slices of ham before her and Rey forgot all about Kylo and his mothering. In a split second she had taken a forkful of the delicious spiced meat and when she’d placed it on her tongue she moaned, the taste far too heavenly to be done by any cook except that famous chef The Gourmet (who was renowned throughout all of Tamriel for his food - even Unkar had the anonymous chef’s cookbook). At each bite of ham, a small noise of satisfaction escaped her. She had been blissfully unembarrassed of the sounds until she’d raised her head to give Holdo a compliment for the chef. Kylo was staring at her again and this time Rey met his gaze dead-on. He sat across from her at the table and she could easily see how dark his eyes were, blown black, the brown a mere ring around his pupil. His hands gripped his utensils tightly and when Rey looked at him he didn't back down, as if she were issuing him a challenge and he was ready to take it.

 

He’d looked at her like that before. At Solitude. At Markarth. It warmed her blood and sent her heart racing. 

 

Holdo interrupted them with a question and Rey had dragged her attention away from Kylo. She avoided looking at him the rest of the meal but knew every time his eyes were on her. 

 

Now she lay in bed with sleep seeming farther away than the moon and even more agitated after thinking about Kylo and his heated glances. She groaned and sat up. Maybe if she went for a walk she would tire enough to rest. 

 

Rey slipped into the furry slippers laying on the floor at her bedside and wrapped a fur from the bed around her shoulders. It was warm in her room but the halls would be drafty and cold - her woolen nightgown wouldn’t be enough. 

 

Except for the discretely placed guards who nodded at Rey as she passed, the great halls of Dragonsreach were empty. She circled the top floor, listening to the wind whistle against the walls, icy fingers searching for purchase. She didn’t think of anything but let her mind focus on her steps and what direction she took. When she’d completed the circle twice she stopped and saw she was back in her corner of the manor.

 

She still wasn’t tired. 

 

Kylo’s room was to her right. 

 

But he was probably asleep. She shouldn’t bother him. What would she say anyway? He was probably tired of being her security blanket and glad to be away from her. 

 

With those thoughts in mind, Rey more than ever needed a distraction. She had noticed a staircase on one of her passes around the corridor and decided to see where it went. The stairs took her to up to a door that opened out into a huge stone room which Rey realized was the summit of the keep. From the outside one couldn’t tell there was a room at all, much less that it was big as the main hall downstairs. 

 

Most of it was covered by a roof, but the outermost edge fell away and left a porch of sorts that faced the mountains to the north. The wind blew freely into the space, chilling Rey to the bone. She drew her blanket closer to her shoulders. Despite the cold, she walked closer to the open side, desirous of seeing the night sky. The auroras had a way of calming her, their dance like a lullaby. As she passed through the room she noticed a giant wooden and iron contraption chained to the roof. It looked like a harness. 

 

“What’s that for?” She mused aloud, pausing at the edge of the room to examine the device. 

 

“To trap a dragon.”

 

Ice formed in the palm of her hand and she whirled to her left to confront the voice but it was Kylo who stepped out of the shadows at the edge of the room. She realized he must have been leaning against the wall on that side and that’s why she hadn’t seen him.

 

“Don’t… don’t sneak up on people like that!” She gasped, canceling the spell and placing the hand to her racing heart. 

 

“Sorry.” His eye twitched and a remorseful look passed over his face. 

 

Rey shook the moment off and moved on. “What did you mean? This place was used to trap a dragon?” She had to force herself to look at his face. While his trousers and boots were still in place, his dark tunic was untied and loose at the top, revealing just enough of his strong chest to distract her. 

 

“Dragonsreach isn’t named idly. This place,” he gestured around them, “is called the Great Porch. Ages ago, during the Dragon War, it’s where a dragon was, for the first time, caught and kept.” His eyes gazed upon the space like he was seeing the event instead of an empty room. His brow furrowed as what Rey guessed was an unpleasant memory was triggered and Rey had to force herself not to reach out and smooth the wrinkles. A moment later he turned his frown on her. “You’re supposed to be in bed.” He admonished. “You’re still weak.”

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Rey admitted. The way the lines on his face deepened to a scowl made her fingers yearn even more to make them disappear. 

 

“Is it the dreams?” He asked, moving closer, a hand going to the knife strapped to his side, as if he could save her from the spectersin her mind with his weapon.

 

If she had been less unsettled Rey would have smiled at the gesture, but she shook her head instead. “No… I’m not sure.”

 

He considered her dubiously. “You’re not sure?”

 

Of course she was sure. After he’d stepped into her view relief had seeped into her bones. She missed him. Missed in her bed, at her back, breathing beside her. But for now she held back from admitting that. 

 

“Do you mind if we talk for a while?” She asked instead. “I need a distraction.”

 

He nodded. “Of course. Wait, out there? Rey, it’s freezing!” 

 

Rey ignored his protest and continued to the parapet which encircled the porch. She wanted to see what was out there. If she hadn’t already ridden on the back of a dragon she might find the view dizzying. After that experience she thought it beautiful but incomparable to what the world looked like in flight. The White River flowed to her right, sparkling in the moonlight as it wound its way south. The mountains rose high, nearly blocking out the moon as they reached in vain for the sky. To Rey's disappointment, the auroras had yet to make their appearance.

 

“Before you die of exposure I suggest you talk quickly and then get inside.” Kylo groused from her right, obviously irritated she’d ignored him. 

 

It _was_ dreadfully cold. 

 

“Can you tell me happened with Stormcloak?” Rey blurted. The question had eaten at her ever since Kylo had hinted in Markarth there was more to the story than what she knew. It was time he explained himself. 

 

He leaned against the stone wall with a heavy sigh and looked to the mountains. “Are you sure this is the conversation you want to have?”

 

“I’ve been in the dark too long,” she replied softly. “You’ve told me as much. If you think I’ve been lied to, then tell me the truth. I deserve to know the whole story.”

 

Silence followed for a few moments after and Rey wondered if he’d decided against telling her when he turned to face her. 

 

“Did Skywalker tell you anything about Stormcloak?”

 

Rey shook her head no. 

 

“Did the Resistance?”

 

“I read the scrolls at Windhelm.” She replied hesitantly. “They didn’t say much. When I asked for more, but the answers… well, they weren’t really answers at all.” She hated admitting that; it was like she had betrayed Poe and her friends even though it was the truth. 

 

“So all you know is the version in which he’s the hero who sacrificed himself for Skyrim.” It wasn’t a question. 

 

Rey shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.”

 

Kylo nodded as if he had been expecting that answer. “That’s the official story, the one in all the Nord taverns and Resistance camps. The one that keeps the Resistance popular. If everyone knew the truth, the Resistance would wither and die.”

 

He was being cryptic again and Rey’s tired mind and body didn’t have the patience for it. “Would you just spit it out?” She snapped. “You’re so damn dramatic!”

 

“Fine.” He retorted in kind, eye twitching again. “Have you heard of the Aldmeri Dominion?” She hadn’t and it must have read on her face because he rolled his eyes. “The Resistance truly taught you nothing. The Dominion is a powerful ally of the Empire. High Elves from Morrowind. Hux is one, a general in their elite military force called the Thalmor. The Empire was negotiating a truce with the Dominion and in exchange for their friendship, the Elves wanted the worship of Talos banned.”

 

“So Emperor Titus signed the treaty?” Rey interrupted impulsively. “Talos _is_ banned, Ben. The Resistance is fighting for their rights!”

 

Kylo’s stare was so stony that Rey was quietened and he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. 

 

“Titus had no intention of signing the treaty in that form,” he explained, to Rey’s chagrin. “That was all Ulfric Stormcloak. He incited the idea that Skyrim should secede from the Empire and hell broke loose. The fighting began and Skyrim was split in two, brother against brother. It was only because Stormcloak created a fucking mess that Titus was forced to sign the treaty. Tamriel was still - is still - recovering from the Oblivion Crisis. The Empire didn’t have the resources to deal with a civil war so the treaty with the Aldmeri Dominion was his only choice. He needed the Elves’ support.

 

But that only served to confirm everything Stormcloak had said and any Nords wavering between the Empire and the Resistance quickly fell to his side. But the worst was yet to come. When the Empire had finally pushed the Resistance back and victory seemed close at hand, Stormcloak and the Resistance dispatched the Dark Brotherhood to assassinate the Emperor. They not only succeeded but they also killed his only son and heir. Tamriel was leaderless and thrown into chaos. No one knew what to do and there was a power struggle. Until-”

 

Rey drew in a sharp breath, guessing what came next. “Snoke.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I suppose he was the one who told you all this about Stormcloak?”

 

“Yes, he did inform me of the finer details,” Kylo replied defensively. “His methods may be harsh but he brought the Empire together when it was on the brink of collapse. He was the only one capable of dealing with the idiots who were so power hungry they didn’t care what happened to Tamriel, even lesswhat happened to Skyrim. But,” he leaned forward, lowering his voice, “Stormcloak decided killing one emperor wasn’t good enough. He wanted Snoke dead too so he attempted another plot. That one… That one I stopped.”

 

The 30th of Frostfall. The murder of the Blades and the High King. 

 

The tale Kylo spun was almost too incredible and one she doubted since it came from Snoke but above all else Rey’s focus narrowed on one impossible thing. “Leia would never have agreed to assassinating the Emperor. She would have sought a diplomatic solution.” She stated, not even thinking about how hearing his mother’s name might affect the man beside her until after she’d spoken. But his composure remained intact, which made the horror of his answer worse.

 

“I was there, Rey. I overheard the meeting that decided Titus' fate. It was unanimous.”

 

Hot, angry tears slid down Rey’s cheeks. “I don’t believe you.” She choked out. “Leia wouldn’t… she couldn’t-” There was no way Leia would ever agree to murder. Not the woman Rey had come to know. 

 

“My mother is no angel.” He interjected wearily, almost sadly. “She is just as culpable as Ulfric for starting this war and bringing us all to this place. I confronted her and partially for it I was exiled to Luke’s monastery. You already know what came of that.”

 

Rey stared at Kylo to find some clue that he was lying, some tell that he tricking her. But his face was an open book and whatever tether existed between them declared he wasn’t deceiving her. At least, he believed what he said. 

 

While the concept of Leia being involved in such a treacherous plot as the one Ben described horrified her, there was a small voice in Rey’s head that reminded her that Leia had been the one who had ordered her to lie and violate the truce with the Empire for a strategic advantage. But that was a far cry from murdering the Emperor. 

 

“Do you understand now why I joined the Imperial Legion? I’m trying to save my people.” Kylo beat his chest with a fist. “I’m trying to save Skyrim.”

 

What Rey wanted to argue was that Snoke’s empire had committed atrocities in the name of that same justice but her throat wouldn’t work as the cursed exhaustion she’d sought swept over her like a tidal wave and blurred her vision. 

 

“I should go,” she murmured, turning unsteadily toward the door. “I need to go.” Kylo reached for her and braced her as she swayed on her feet. The weight of the past week finally caught up to her but her mind was still trying to wrap itself around the possibility that everything that Skyrim knew - everything Rey knew - about the Resistance and Ulfric Stormcloak was based on a lie.

 

“Are you alright?” She heard Kylo over the roaring in her ears. 

 

Rey forced herself to nod. “Yes. No.” Conflicted between wanting him and needing to be alone, she pulled away and moved toward the door. “I’m tired.” Before he could utter another word, Rey rushed across the porch and back into the keep. She didn’t stop until she reached her room and fell into bed. 

 

But instead of the sleep she now even more desperately craved, Rey lay awake thinking about what Kylo had told her. She couldn’t believe it outright, no matter how convincingly Kylo argued, not if the tale came from Snoke. She thought about asking Holdo but if the Jarl knew about Stormcloak Rey doubted she would answer truthfully with Kylo Ren under her roof, especially after what Holdo witnessed between he and Rey. There was only one way to know for sure and that was by messaging Poe. He wouldn’t dare lie about something of this magnitude. 

 

Mind made up, Rey closed her eyes and the dam keeping sweet unconsciousness at bay finally broke and she slept. 

 

****

 

The morning brought some awkwardness. Kylo apparently didn’t know how to approach her and Rey wasn’t sure if she wanted to be approached until she had gotten the answer she sought. So they didn’t speak at all except for a curt morning  greeting. 

 

After a brief breakfast in the Dragonsreach kitchens, the pair of Dragonborn descended the many steps from the keep to the Skyforge, each carrying a sack of the precious Dragonore. Rey watched where her hide boots hit the stones to avoid tripping down the steep stairway but she spared a few glances at her companion. The new clothes he wore weren’t his standard. They weren’t black - which probably irked him to no end - but instead his tunic was a deep blue and he wore brown trousers, like many of the farmers in Whiterun Hold. He hadn’t shaved, which left a shadow on his face that wasn’t unbecoming. 

 

Rey shifted the pack on her shoulder and sighed. Anyone on the outside might consider the pair a farming couple in town for supplies, although Rey didn’t quite fit the role of a farm wife in her trousers and cream tunic. Whatever anyone thought of them, adventurers or farmers, she and Kylo didn’t look like a pair of warriors with the weight of the world on their shoulders. Not for the first time, she wished they were just a pair of adventurers instead of the legendary Dragonborn. 

 

The sound of a hammer pounding metal rang in her ears and Rey was forced out of her wistful thoughts as they summited the hill to the Skyforge. Rey had noticed the colossal stone eagle on her other visits to Whiterun and admired it from afar as location of the legendary Skyforge. Coming upon it now, close enough to see the beak agape in a vicious scream and wings spread as if to take flight, Rey was struck with a sense of the ancient, the same as she experienced in her dreams. The Skyforge was old. 

 

Legend told it was older than the Elves. The original settlers to Whiterun had built Jorrvaskr underneath it and over time, as the city grew and expanded, the original mead hall became the home to the Companions and the Skyforge became the source of the Companions weapons, creating the strongest steel in the land. A place of unknown power, it was fitting that it could mold Rey and Kylo new weapons to kill Alduin.

 

A pool of molten fire resided at the base of the eagle and beside it stood the typical blacksmith’s array. A giant of a man in his shirtsleeves was wielding his hammer against what appeared to be a broadsword. Rey saw him tilt his head in their direction as they approached but he didn’t take his eyes from his work. She and Kylo stopped a few feet behind him and waited for him to finish. It was a good minute or so later before the blacksmith was satisfied with the shape of the weapon and thrust it into the waiting water bath, waving away the cloud of steam that followed. He turned then, wiping his hands on his leather apron, and faced his visitors. 

 

“What is it I can do for you, Dragonborn?” He asked in a strong Nordic accent. “Eorlund Gray-Mane at your service.” 

 

Rey instantly liked him. He had lively grey eyes settled into a weather-beaten but kind face. His white hair and beard were braided in the style native to Whiterun Nords with intricate knots and coils that were practical as they were beautiful. 

 

“We’re hoping you might forge some weapons for us, sir,” Rey answered. “Out of this.” She set her pack down and Kylo put his beside it. Eorlund considered the two packs - which now lay open to reveal the ebony ore - with an expert eye. He knelt down and picked one of the raw stones up, weighing it in his hands. 

 

“This is not an ore I am familiar with, my lady. I don’t think you’ll find a smithy in the whole of Tamriel who is.” He raised his head with an apologetic expression on his face. “I don’t know if my skills are enough.”

 

“It’s not you,” Kylo said and Rey frowned at the ice in his tone, “but the Skyforge we need. If you can't do it we'll get another blacksmith.”

 

“Ah, hold on there,” Eorlund chuckled. “I didn't say I wouldn't try. And,” he stood, still holding the rock of Dragonore, "seeing as no man but me works this forge, you’ll have to take me with it whether you like it or not. I’ll do my best for you. As long as this stuff doesn’t curse me.” 

 

“It hasn’t harmed us so far,” Rey provided, but Eorlund laughed in response. 

 

“My lady, I’m a mere mortal. You’re the Dragonborn. I don’t think much can do you harm.”

 

Rey didn’t know how to react but couldn’t help looking at Kylo and the scar that ran down his face and the other wounds that did not bear a physical mark that lay within both of them. She wished she could tell Eorlund that many things could harm the Dragonborn but remained silent. She didn’t want to be the one who ripped that hope from Eorlund, not after her own had been ruined. Rey stopped herself from continuing down that line of thought. She didn’t know for sure that what Kylo said was true. He believed it, yes, but the story could easily be lies spun by Snoke to sway Kylo’s loyalties. 

 

“How long will take to forge them?” Kylo asked. He was always ready with the pertinent questions and Rey managed a small smile despite her darker thoughts. “We need them urgently.”

 

Eorlund shrugged. “I reckon a couple of days.” Rey sensed a protest from her companion and so must have Eorlund because the smithy raised a calloused hand. “If you want quality weapons that won’t snap on you at the first resistance then two days it must be. What kind of weapons will they be, anyway? You,” he pointed at Kylo, “favor the broadsword, I know. But you,” he smiled upon Rey, "what do you like?”

 

Rey's mouth opened and closed in surprise. She’d never been asked what weapon she preferred. Whatever she’d been given was what she worked with. But, even so, she’d always gravitated toward a lighter, one-handed sword because it gave her the freedom to use magicka; and that is the answer she gave. 

 

The blacksmith nodded in satisfaction. “As I thought. Off you go, then. I can’t work with an audience.”

 

Rey and Kylo thanked the blacksmith and left him to his work. The sooner he got to forging, the sooner they could defeat Alduin. 

 

Having no other responsibilities that day, the pair meandered aimlessly into the Wind District. Rey paused beside the Gildergreen, an ancient tree which stood as the centerpiece of the district. She hadn’t yet had the chance to admire the beautiful tree with its winding branches and lilac-colored leaves that fluttered in the wind like a thousand butterflies. The aqueduct from the Cloud District encircled the tree in a moat before descending to the Plains District, isolating the tree in a semi-oasis. Beckoned by the shady peace which the Gildergreen’s branches promised, Rey crossed one of the bridges to the little island and settled herself down onto a bench that overlooked the Plains District. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drinking in the clear air provided by the tree’s healing properties and listening to the calming sounds of a busy afternoon in the town.

 

A darker shadow crossed her vision and she opened her eyes to see Kylo standing before her with an expression on his face that surprised her. Kylo Ren, a man feared across Skyrim, the vicious warrior afraid of nothing and no one, looked down at her with what could only be trepidation. She knew why but it was amusing all the same. 

 

“Yes?” She prompted. He opened his mouth as if to speak but snapped it shut. A second later he tried again. 

 

“I’m going to check on getting horses for our journey back to Solitude.” He turned on his heel and strode down the steps to the Plains District. 

 

Not what she had expected. Then again, she wasn’t sure what she had expected. She had the sense he was disappointed but didn’t know how to voice it. Probably because she hadn’t immediately cursed the Resistance and joined his side, but how could she? A decision of that magnitude couldn’t be made based on one conversation that might possibly be all lies itself. Rey huffed in frustration. She didn’t know up from down at this point. She needed to get that message out to Poe and now, with Kylo busy, was the perfect opportunity. 

 

Rey hurried back to Dragonsreach and approached Proventus at his usual post beside the Jarl’s throne. Holdo was not there. All the better. 

 

“I need to send a message,” she announced. “Immediately.”

 

A few minutes later, she considered the coded missive now in her hands. Behind the boring message about the flowers in Whiterun was an allegation that Rey wouldn’t be able to take back after it was sent:

 

_I know about Stormcloak_

 

Short and to the point. Whatever Poe returned to her would determine her next steps.

 

After folding the parchment and sealing it with wax, Rey handed the letter to the courier. As soon as he took it a deep sense of foreboding came over her and she wanted to take it back but was too late. The courier was gone before she could utter a word.

 

****

 

Two days later Eorlund delivered the new weapons, along with a surprise gift: new armor for each of them made from the excess ore. Apparently Rey and Kylo had gathered more than enough and he hadn’t wanted to waste it nor did he want to keep it for himself. 

 

They set off to Solitude that same day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I've edited the spy plot I had Rey acting out a little bit. It's not totally different but I think it's finessed a bit better for what I have planned later. Chapter 10 has Poe explaining what she's supposed to do if you want to look back on it. But if you choose not to I don't think those of you who've been reading from the beginning will be confused or anything. I consider fic writing a living thing so I am constantly checking and rechecking and sometimes I have to go back and edit what I've already published. After all, I believe in learning by doing at the Academy!
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm always appreciative of comments! Come say hi on twitter or tumblr! ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> For updates on progress or if you just wanna see reylo ramblings follow me!
> 
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> [StarToured on Twitter](https://twitter.com/StarToured)
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